#but then you run into the chef in the bathroom and he's crying his eyes out cos he's been on the clock for 15 hours---

[ashtcnirwin]

if each 5sos album was some sort of food, be it a singular item like a vegetable or a loaf of bread, or a wholeass dish, or anything in between, what do you think it would it be?

[lxnarphase]

chef's kiss, she's a treat ๋࣭ ⚝

❝ do you like my new lip combo, baby? ❞ wc: 4.1k

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : blk!fem!reader + g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + h. hiromi + f. toji + k. shiu + k. choso + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. fumihiko + t. aoi ☾₊‧⁺...cw : sloppy kissing + messy make-outs, marking, grinding + dry humping, praise kink, oral fixation, finger sucking, spit kink, overstimulation, cock-warming, dacryphilia, daddy kink, size difference + size kink, desperate men, videotaping, breeding kink

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis + a/n : jjk men seeing their blk!gf's new lip gloss/lip combo that just makes her lips so fucking good they can't keep away from her | i have been working on this for 3-4 days because it had to be PERFECT or i would never forgive myself, so enjoy this absolute filthy creation of mine that i poured my heart into 🤎 ☾₊‧⁺...tags : @currentlyaways

can't stop kissing you ↴

✧ g. satoru ; he doesn't say anything when you first come out of the bathroom, asking if you nailed the 'clear coat with the 5% tint edges' look. no he's letting out a needy, shaky sigh when he pulls you into his lap by your wrist. he looks so conflicted as he stares at your lips, running his finger just under your bottom one, not wanting to ruin your lip gloss.

"y'so pretty, y'know that," he whispers against your lips, just barely pulling away before diving back in for more. each kiss is sticky and messy from the gloss, satou having smeared it all over his mouth and yours. his hand his buried in your mess of curls as he keeps you from pulling away for air. he knows when you really need it, don't worry, just let him kiss you, yeah? you don't have a choice, not when his other arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you in one spot. "s-shit, satoru, b-baby," you start before getting cut off by the rolling of his hips. "yeah? feel good? mn, shit, you're so so pretty, princess," he moans into your mouth, his tongue slipping past your lips again to taste you again. he can feel that he's just smudging more of your lip gloss and he can't help but whine. it always felt so fucking good knowing he got to be the one to see you all pretty and gussied up just to fucking ruin it with his touches. satoru's breathe hitches when your hips begin to grind down against his own. "pretty thing," he hisses, giving a little tug on your soft coils. "you keep this shit up, and i'm gonna mess up more than just that pretty lip makeup." you can't help but laugh against his lips, giving him a quick, messy kiss. "you started it, 'toru, 'm just finishing it."

✧ k. choso ; choso was just being a sweetheart, clingy for your attention as he whines, pouting until you kiss him on his lips. he instinctively lips his lips and is pleasantly surprised at the sweet taste on his lips. 'are you...why do you taste so good," he innocently asks, looking at your lips in confusion. when you pull out the little tube of lip gloss, pink and green, the words 'watermelon flavor' catch his eye. '...oh...can i kiss you again?'

you know you're gonna have to clean the couch. you want to be upset, but you can't. not when choso has you folded in half as he desperately fucks into your creamy cunt, his mouth smushed against yours. he's barely even kissing you, he's just fucking your mouth with his tongue at this point. all of your lip gloss has been effectively licked off by choso, but he didn't care. you still tasted like watermelon, and he wanted more. he's moaning into your mouth, pulling away from you with sticky strands of saliva connecting him to you. his hand comes up to run over your lips, whining when he realizes all of your lip gloss is gone. "'m sorry, baby, i-i licked it off, 'm sorry," he whimpers, his hips stuttering briefly as he cums. he grinds into you with a loud cry of your name, pumping another hot load into your pussy. it's okay, it's messy, but he's gonna clean you up after with his mouth. "d'you wanna taste? wanna see how g-good you taste? yeah? c-come on, open up, please." you do as he says, sticking out your tongue with a moan, and he opens his, too, saliva dripping from his tongue onto yours. when you close your tongue and swallow, choso's crying, sobbing your name, and he throbs violently inside of you, picking up speed. before he smashes your mouths together, he moans against your mouth, "so good, so f-fuckin' good, babyyy, your pussy 'n' m-mouth are gonna make me melt, i love you s'fucking bad."

✧ h. hiromi ; you had the new lip gloss on all day and hiromi was so sweet about it, giving you little pecks here and there, chuckling whenever you'd playfully scold him for stealing some of the gloss. he'd just tease you, asking if he looked pretty with the gloss on, too, before kissing you again. even now, when you're both on the couch, your back resting against his chest, he can't stop kissing you

hiromi plants soft kisses along her jawline, peppering her with affectionate whispers. "there you go, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his thick fingers thrusting in and out of your sensitive hole. "you are the sweetest little thing. you're so gorgeous today, i love it when you wear lip gloss, even if it is a bit sticky," he chuckles against your cheek, turning you to kiss you. his tongue slips into your mouth, rubbing over yours as you softly moan, trying your best to fuck yourself on his fingers. "please, hiromi," you softly keen, desperately kissing his lips, smearing your lip gloss all over him. "please, honey, m-make me cum," you whine, one of her hands moving to her glistening cunt to swirl circles around your throbbing clit. "i-i wanna cum on your fingers s' you can fuck me, baby." hiromi let out another soft chuckle, his nose nuzzling into your soft curls that were getting frizzy. "god, you're so fucking adorable," he murmurs, knocking your hand away from your clit so he could pick up speed without bumping against your hand. "of course, baby girl. i'll take care of you. just relax, and I'll make you cum all over my fingers, sweetheart."

✧ t. fumihiko ; all you do is pull out the peach lip oil and roll it on your lips, smacking them together, and fumihiko's attention is zeroed in on you. he's up in your face, asking what you just rubbed onto your lips. he can smell it, and it smells so sweet. if it smells good, it must taste good, right? you managed to stop him from running his tongue all over your lips in front of everyone at the bar, managing to pull him away when you caught that curious lick of his lips. once you're away from everyone in a corner, he's on you.

the poor thing, still inexperienced with kissing with the way he's messily pressing his lips into yours, enjoying the faint peachy flavor he swears he can taste on you. you don't have the heart to tell fumihiko it's just the peach whiskey, enjoying the way he was desperately pressing you into the wall with the force of his kisses. "taste so good," fumihiko whines, finally pulling away to look at your mouth. "gosh, i-i could kiss you all day, s-so sweet..." it's messy from the smearing of the lip oil and the mixture of saliva. just the view of you all messy...it makes him snap, his eyes wide and brow furrowed as his fingers run over your lips to smear more of the mess around. next thing you know, he's slipping his fingers into your mouth, pushing them down on your tongue. "t-this okay?" fumihiko's nervous as he asks, his free hand unconsciously coming up to wrap around your neck to hold you in place, a shudder wracking his body from the soft moan he gets from you. "that's a good noise," he mutters to himself, trying to keep himself from getting to excited. "y-your mouth 's so wet, so hot, it's not fair, i w-wanna feel you it again. c-can i put it in? we can go home, i-i wanna put my dick in your m-mouth, want to fuck it, it's so pretty—" he won't shut the fuck up now, past the point where he was able to. not with the way you were drooling and moaning against his fingers. fuck, he's so hard, he can feel the way his tip rubs against the fabric of his jeans. why the fuck did he go commando, this friction was gonna drive him mad. you notice it, too, feeling the way fumihiko was so pathetically humping into your thigh. and oh, the pitiful whine of your name he lets out is music to your ears. easing his hand out of your mouth, you press a wet kiss into his palm, looking up at him so prettily through your lashes. "c'mon, baby boy, lemme take you home, i'll take good care of you...wet and sloppy, just how you like it."

likes when you mark him ↴

✧ n. kento ; while kento was away, you felt like playing around with your makeup, trying out a simple dark brown upper lip and clear gloss look. you look so precious, your curly hair in a messy puff ball as you greet him in the bedroom. all you had on was a tank top and some pink lounge shorts as you got up from your vanity. the second he comes home, he's complimenting you, telling you how nice your makeup looks. when you ask him coyly if he wants to see the color, how can he say no?

kento is melted into the mattress, breathless as you continue to cover him with kisses. he promised he'd buy you new tubes of lipstick and lip gloss as long as you just kept kissing him everywhere. "aww, ken, you look so handsome," you say with a giggle, pressing yet another kiss on his neck. "did you miss me while you were at work? wanted your wifey to cover you in kisses baby?" you can feel his cock pulsing inside of you with each press of your lips. poor thing was doing his best to not buck up into you, to just flip you over and pound into your pretty pussy. but it was so fucking hard with the love of his life marking his entire upper body in kiss marks, occasionally licking and nipping at his skin. "honey, i'm gonna move jus' a little bit," he rasps, a groan bubbling out of him when you grind your hips as a response. "just keep kissing my neck, darling, lemme make us both feel good." the first roll of his hips has you moaning against his neck, smearing lipstick all over it. he feels so fucking deep, he's kissing your cervix with these deep, slow strokes. "god...your cunt is gushing for me, baby," he sighs, his eyes rolling back when he feels you mouthing right under his ear. "d-did, mm, fuck, did marking me up get you this wet? yes? aw, baby, you like marking me as yours?" you nod with a giggle before getting cut off with a gasp, his hips snapping up hard into your pussy. "c'mon, honey. keep kissing, i'm gonna fuck you good until you run out of lipstick."

✧ g. suguru ; suguru is mean. he's so mean to you today, he doesn't let you suck him off, he just tells you to kiss all over his cock with those pretty stained lips, tugging you away from his tip when you try to suck on it. no, no, you're not gonna taste him, not yet. he wants you to mark him up, condescendingly soothing you each time you whine when he tugs you by your locs away from his tip. with the way he keeps looking up at the mirror, he's got a plan for you.

"sugu, sugu, sugu, s-sugu!" "oh, you moan so pretty, princess...keep sucking me in that little pussy, take this fat cock, baby girl, doin' so good for me." he's got you in a full nelson in front of the mirror, making you watch as his cock fucks in and out of your messy little cunt. the best part? he could see the dark kiss marks all over his dick. "aww, you can see your kiss marks," he coos into your ear, his breath fanning against it as he pants. seeing your eyes start to roll back, suguru chuckles. poor thing, it felt so good you couldn't even listen to him when he said to keep your fucking eyes on him in the mirror. he slows his hips, smirking when you whine in protest. "shhh, don't whine, you don't wanna behave? don't wanna see my cock that you marked up all pretty get wet from your messy pussy? tch, my poor baby..." that's all it takes for you to squeeze your eyes shut, a choked-off sob leaving you as you start to make a mess. each time his cock pulls out of you, thick cream is pulled out of you too, the milky substance dripping down his length. suguru laughs meanly in your ear, cooing to you as he finally starts to pick up speed just from that. "awwww, babyyyy! did you cream? mm, but i didn't feel you cum," he teases with a coo of your name. "your covering up some of the kiss marks...pfft, don't cry like that, you look too fuckin' pretty. let's make you get creamier, okay?"

✧ h. kinji ; kinji buys you all kinds of lipstick and lip gloss because this man is obsessed with seeing your lips all shiny and pretty. his favorite on to buy you? the dior lip oil. god, he loves how it makes you look so delicious, he can barely keep himself from kissing you until you can't think, but the day you try on the mahogany lip oil with a soft pink lipstick under it? he's obsessed with how juicy it makes your soft lips look, and kinji cannot stay off of you.

after about 30 minutes and what felt like 100 reapplications of the lipstick and gloss combo, kinji is covered in kiss marks from his forehead down to his cock that is currently pistoning in and out of you. you're so fucking glad he made you hold your phone to record him fucking you like this because you could not stop looking at him. he looked so good, and that stupid fucking grin on his face told you he knew you liked it. "shit, cupcake, your so fucking tight right now," he choked out with a laugh. when you pout and try to hold the phone at a better angle to catch the way his cock slid in and out of you, his rhythm falters. he just knows whatever the fuck comes out of your mouth is about to break him. "i-i want to do this to you more, k-kinji. marking you up makes you look pretty an' it means y-you're mine." the phone is squished between you and kinji when he shifts positions, folding you into a mating press that just pushes him in deeper, the head of his dick nudging right against that spot that makes you fucking cry. "kinji—!"mmn, s' there? yeah, 's there, right fuckin' there," he mutters against your lips, picking his pace up again right where he left off. his fingers are laced on top of your head and fuck, he's reminded of the pretty purple faux locs you got to match his purple hair and he curses, angling his hips to get as deep as possible inside of your tight, slick walls. "i'm all fuckin' yours, cupcake, all yours, all fuckin' yours. fuck, gonna mark me up every time we fuck? huh? oooh shit, 'm-'m not lettin' you go until this fuckin' cunt is flooded with my cum, baby, you're gettin' bred t'night like a good fucking girl."

✧ t. aoi ; another victim of the the clear coat with the 5% tint edges. he's weak for it, so fucking weak. your lips are already one of his favorite parts of you, with how soft and plump they are, how sweet they taste whenever he places a peck on them. so when todo walks into the kitchen and sees you, his pretty girl in his shirt, and that simple but oddly sexy lip combo? he's already getting hard in his sweats, struggling to maintain eye contact with you as he greets you.

all you did was kiss his chest and giggle at the faint pink lip gloss mark left on it. your front is pressed against the cool counter of the marble island, your drool dripping onto the surface. he's so fucking big that your toes are barely touching the floor. todo's thick fingers are in your mouth, keeping your mouth open to let those pretty noises out that you kept trying to hide. he holds onto your hips, using the leverage to drive himself deeper into you, relishing in the tightness and wetness of your pussy. "you're such a pretty thing," he groans, his voice filled with a mix of lust and dominance. "taking my cock like a good little whore, bunny." he grunts with each tight squeeze of your cunt. you clenching around him so fucking much, so fucking needy for him. todo doesn't hold back, thrusting into you with a primal need as a rhythmic plap, plap, plap fills the kitchen. "a-aoi, baby, baby, please, m-move a little, s-so close to my spot," you beg around his fingers, squirming around to try and aim his cock right at that sweet spot. anything, anything for you. todo angles your hips just a little differently, and you practically scream, his cock now hitting your sensitive spot with each deep thrust. "oohmygod, baby, i-i can't, 's too deep," you cry, hips trying to tilt away when you realize that he's abusing that spongy spot inside your slick walls. "'s your fault, bunny. you wanna mark me up? hm?" he can sense your getting closer to cumming as he targets your sweet spot relentlessly. "fuck, i was so hard the second i saw those pretty lips of yours, and you fucking mark me." the pitiful whine he gets from you has his hips stuttering momentarily, eyes rolling with a groan. "you're such a fucking mess, bunny," he growls, his voice laced with possessiveness. "you're taking this dick like a good fucking girl. lemme fuck you just the way you need it."

wants it smeared on him ↴

✧ f. toji ; when he sees the glittery gloss coat on your lips, toji lets out a low whistle. he loves when you wear lipstick, but this shimmery look on you has his attention. you're talking to him, and he's trying to look you in the eye, but his eyes keep drifting to your lips. in the middle of your sentence, he gently takes your hand and places it right on the bulge in his white sweats, smirking when you falter for a moment as he just goes, 'mhm, keep going, mama, 'm listenin.'

if you could, you would laugh, knowing that toji's cock was all shiny and glittery from the combination of your spit and your pink-tinted shimmer gloss. but with the way he was busy fucking your mouth, his fist full of your braids. toji's grip keeps your head in place as he slides his cock in and out of your hot mouth, green eyes occasionally rolling back in his head. you've gotten so much better at this, at letting his fat dick stretch your throat. and the view, god, the view. you are so pretty like this, your mascara smudging down those cute cheeks of yours while thick strands of saliva and precum messily dripped from your chin to your chest. "that's it, baby, you're taking it like a champ," he praises breathlessly, savoring every time he feels you swallow around him. his praise made your eyes flutter, a muffled moan vibrating so deliciously around his dick. "ohh, shit," toji hisses, thrusting his hips a little deeper and making you choke, the feeling of your throat restricting around him, making him groan your name. fuck, seeing him hunch over like this made you drag your nails down his thighs, desperate to taste his cum. he just looked so fucking good when he felt good. with a huff, toji looks down at you, eyes narrowed. he's getting so close, and he can't wait to pull you off him and kiss you before helping you apply another coat of lip gloss so he can kiss you dumb while he fucks his fingers into you. and that look in your eye...tells him you want it too. "y-yeah? y'like it when i use your, shit, your pretty mouth? god, looking so beautiful, ma, love how you look in this lip gloss." yeah, he loves it when you smear it all over him so he can grin in the mirror after, seeing how glittery he is.

✧ r. sukuna ; he's so mean. sukuna acts like it's not his fault that you both will be late, all because he thinks your new lip gloss combo will catch the attention of men and make them stare at your lips. it might cause a little flicker of the eye to your mouth, but no one could get to the same level of sukuna. no, it was impossible to compare to how he'd glare at your lips before growling and smearing your lip liner all over his mouth.

he wishes he could take a picture of this and frame it on the fucking wall. the visual of you between his legs as he sits on the bed, his cock pulled out of his dress pants. the slow drag of your lips up and down his cock, seeing the pretty smear of your pinkish-brown lip gloss...fuck, he wants you like this all the time. "thaaaat's right," he praises you, brushing back your soft curls from your face. "let me see how much you like having my cock in your mouth. such a slut, fuckin' slobbering all over it." sukuna throbs in your mouth, his tip hot as it presses against the back of your throat. if you weren't used to it, you would've choked from how much precum he's dripping into your mouth, forcing you to constantly swallow to keep your mouth from getting too full. however, sukuna is caught off guard when you pull yourself off him, glaring into his eyes. "sukuna, we are 20 minutes late," you scold him, sneering a little as you grip his spit-coated cock and stroke him furiously, taking out your annoyance on him. the deep groan he rewards you isn't enough, no, you wanted a nice date, and instead sukuna was thinking with the wrong fucking head. again. "you ruined my makeup, ruined my lipstick, and i already fuckin' know my mascara is fucked." it is, and he loves it, the dark streaks of it dripping down your cheeks that are framed by your soft curls. "did all that just to get my lipstick on your dick? hm? you're so fucking nasty," you huff with a roll of your eyes before taking him back into your mouth, a choked moan, his legs jumping in surprise. " shut up, 'kuna. do you wanna ruin my lipstick and make us miss our reservation? fine, but you're gonna cum until you can't anymore."

✧ k. shiu ; shiu is tired of his new client, ready to get out of his clothes, into the shower, and then in bed with you wrapped in his arms. so imagine his pleasant surprise when he comes out of the shower to his pretty wife sitting all pretty on the bed in lacy lingerie and soft makeup. and all shiu can think about is you smearing that pretty pink coat of gloss all over the length of his cock.

"atta girl," he grunts, his fingers thrusting in and out of your mouth slooowly. you're between his legs, manicured hand stroking up and down his length that's covered in pink kiss marks, the tip a pretty saturated pink from all of your suckling. "such a desperate little thing for me, aren't you? got all dolled up for daddy t' come home, and you look so gorgeous," he softly coos, one of your braids twirled around his free hand. you were so cute, you didn't even know. the baby blue lingerie you had on contrasted against your skin so perfectly, and seeing you look up at him with such a cock drunk expression was the best thing shiu could've come home to. "you're doing so good, angel, sucking my fingers like it's my dick. d'you want it?" when you nod, tongue sliding over his fingers slowly, shiu chuckles, the deepness of his voice going right to your core. he sounds so good when he talks, when he laughs, it's unfair. slipping his fingers out of your mouth, he cups your chin. "you gonna suck me off? i want your pretty lipstick smeared on me, okay? there you go," shiu hums with a little groan. you had the prettiest little mouth, and even if you could only fit half of him inside of it, that's okay. you still look so cute as you try to take more of him in. "take every inch like you need it, baby."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[rieamena]

storytime!!! so basically im going through a mini writer's block right now so i started cooking to get my mind off it and now all i can think about is cooking with ino takuma

wc: 0.8k contains: pure fluff and nanami's here too i guess, reader is referred to as girlfriend, modern au author's note: fun fact! so i lost most of this and i had to rewrite all of the parts i lost and when i found out i actually started to cry! but i hope yall like it! inbox open for requests + qna questions + anything and everything

first off, i firmly believe this guy is the most mediocre chef EVER. you cannot convince me otherwise. however!, i will give him his props. he can cook his cute lil suspiciously scrumptious dishes when he has the time but that does not stop him from trying to get better at cooking

once you two started dating, he without a doubt begun brushing up on his skills. he went from being able to make a "banger sandwich" to a "banger le poulet frit et les gaufres" which was just chicken and waffles but he's trying okay!!!

he definitely consulted (begged) head chef nanami, as he called him in this situation, to help with his culinary skills. and i'm not talking regular begged, i'm talking groveling at his feet, begged. and nanami obliged, teaching ino how to cook, starting at the very basics, the importance of mise en place: the practice of organizing and preparing your ingredients and equipment before starting to cook

soon enough, ino's culinary lessons with head chef nanami blossomed. he started from basically nothing and now he's mastered the perfect milk to cereal ratio and a near perfect filet mignon. did he know what that was? no. did he watch nanami make it under the excuse of watching is the best form of learning? yes.

but you have to start somewhere! and you have to give him his tens!! he did light the stove and he preheat the oven. he's practically a chef already! and all that watching definitely paid off

"here, try this recipe with your girlfriend." nanami slid a slip of paper over to ino, tiny, uniform inked words on it. "and here is your copy, good luck." an identical piece of paper was given to ino again but it had handwritten notes like pay attention to the flame and i wouldn't recommend substituting this ingredient, it is very vital for the overall taste of the dish

so here you both were in the kitchen, aprons on and eyes peering at the recipe. "step one," takuma started, tightening his apron like he was about to do some serious work. he lifted up a comically large pot and placed it on the stove, pulling out (and flaunting) the crabs he handpicked from the market right after. "get your pot and your crabs."

"step two," you filled the pot halfway with water, sprinkling in a bit of salt and lighting the fire underneath it. "bring your pot of water to a rapid boil."

"what're you doing babe?" your words were clearly a question though it was one that you could answer simply by looking. "i'm paying attention to the flame." takuma pulled your shoulder flush to his, eyes still watching the blue flame with intent and unwavering focus. "i don't think it's going anywhere but okay."

once the water bubbled up violently, ino threw in the crabs and you went to the bathroom to freshen up. you were humming a sweet song while drying your hands when the all too familiar shrill scream of your boyfriend pierced your ears. "takuma?!" you called out, running to the kitchen, hands an uncomfortable damp. and there he was. takuma had the pot lid propped up as if it were a shield, tears pricking his eyes, "baby...", he called out to you. "the crab... it jumped out of the pot..."

"you bought live crabs...?"

"they weren't moving when i bought them."

"ah."

grabbing some nearby tongs, you placed the crab back into the salted water, "wait..., shouldn't we kill them first?" ino slowly nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket, "let's see... wikihow... how to cook a crab..."

"freeze the crabs?!" your in-sync voices rang through your house, bouncing off the walls. "we're not freezing any crabs." you continued, confusion and sass dripping from your lips. "damn right we're not! but, uh, how're we supposed to kill them then?" gulping at your boyfriend's question, you thought for a bit

tugging at one of the drawers, a collection of knives, given to you both by nanami, were revealed. picking the biggest one up and holding it's handle firm and tightly. "surely we could just," the blade sliced through the air, mimicking the swift movement of killing a crab. takuma shook in his place, "hey, queen, you should, uh, watch where you're swinging that. you might hurt yourself," he came closer to you, fingers squeezing and squishing your cheeks. "and then i would have to nurse my pretty girlfriend back to health!"

slapping his hands away playfully, you sighed, "babe, focus! what're we gonna do? i don't wanna kill the crabs..." ino put his hands on his hips, a triumphant smile on his face, "don't worry, i got this."

long story short, he did not.

"oh my god." the plastic fork slipped from takuma's hands clanking against the matching plastic container of takeout

"what?"

"we didn't do mise en place."

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @gojosbrat @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @lailuv21

[fastboatsmojito]

GUESS - Chef Luca x reader one-shot - 18+

| AN; non-physically descript reader, no pronouns used but fem aligned. Based almost solely on “Guess” by Charli xcx, it’ll make sense later, I promise. This is essentially my first anything ever so I’m still trying to figure out my writing style 🙏🏼 enjoy. <3

| Wc: 4.2k

| CWs: Smut BTC, SLOW smut like so much teasing I’m SORRY, fingering, cunnilingus, eventual pnv, Good amount of Sub Luca oops <33 No use of y/n, lingerie??? No condom mention SORRY, Blindfolds, Luca almost crying - in a good way ! The L word, Mention of hand restraint, Kissing, Pet name usage probably; baby, bunny (for Luca), love, sweet boy (also for Luca), etc. Some religious metaphors sorry

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

-

You’ve been distracted all day, work beginning and ending in a distant fog. Usually you had no problem indulging in the fast-paced environment, focusing solely on your work and the insistent voice of whoever was running expo for the day.

Today couldn’t have been more different. The work in front of you being drowned out by mental pictures of the man waiting for you at home.

Your mind was full of him. His words. His hands. It was all his fault.

—-

You had woken up that morning to the boyfriend you were still getting used to sleeping next to everyday. It was new but comfortable. You didn’t feel the need to change practically anything about your nightly routine once he moved in.

Luca isn’t a judgmental guy, It’s one of your most adored attributes of his. Which just so happened to include your ‘pajamas’ a term you used rather loosely, draped in a baggy t-shirt and whatever plain comfy underwear called your name that night.

He loved every second of it, and so did you.

You were rushing to get ready as Luca was quietly helping you. His internal clock denying him the pleasure of staying in bed once you were awake. He was grabbing some socks to lay out while you were brushing your teeth, when the question arose.

You leaned your head out of the bathroom door, toothpaste-filled mouth garbling your words. “Sorry?”

“When’d you get this?” Repeated a curious Luca, gleaming at you while gently holding up a forgotten lacy red bra that had been stored at the back of your drawer.

You’d worn it maybe twice, ever. Once trying it on and the other just for yourself, a confidence boosting self-care ritual that had been pushed out of your schedule by work. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or amused.

“I don’t-“

“Baby, your words.”

Christ. You spat the toothpaste from your mouth before speaking again.

“I don’t remember exactly, it’s been a while.”

He put it back softly, as if it’d shatter if he was too quick. Then walked towards you, leaning in the bathroom doorway.

“I didn’t know you owned something so-“

You finished brushing your teeth and interrupted him.

“Slutty?” You giggled, moving past him to get changed.

“Delicate.”

Delicate? He was driving you insane at six in the morning and he’s barely done anything.

The image of his strong, tattooed hands holding something he’d described himself as ‘delicate’ replaying on a loop in your mind. He moved to sit on the bed next to you as your shoes went on.

“You never asked.”

He laughed softly and took your hand in his as you stood up.

“If you’re nice, maybe I’ll put it on for you tonight.” You smiled and put your arms around his neck.

“Aren’t I always?” He replied, pulling you in to place a soft kiss on your temple.

You caught a glimpse of the clock behind him at that and gave him a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out the door.

———

Once you finally reentered your apartment it was well past 11. Fortunately, it was a Friday night so you weren’t worried about having to wake up early the next morning.

You walked in and almost immediately headed to the shower, just after greeting your peacefully lounging boyfriend. You set up a few things and grabbed one of Luca’s hoodies to throw on after and hopped in.

You came back out to him in the kitchen, heating up what he’d made earlier and put up for you. He sat quietly with you while you ate and waited until you were done to ask about your day.

“‘Was fine, Just been a little distracted.” You replied, slinking down more into your seat while you watched him take your plate to the sink.

“Distracted? By anything in particular?”

He always looked annoyingly sweet with soap on his hands. You got up and leaned against the counter in front of him.

“Just you.”

He dried his hands and placed them on your shoulders, lightly massaging away the tension you held. He leaned down to place a light kiss right under your ear.

“You mind telling me what you were really thinking about, my love, or shall I guess?”

You could melt into him. He always had this effect on you, drawing the desperation out of you like oil in water.

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about this morning and.. I have a few different colored sets like that-“

His warm hands were slowly moving to the hem of the hoodie you adorned, distracting you just as the thought of them alone had done all day.

He stopped, smirking at how easily you leaned into his touch. “Go on.”

“and- well I was just thinking that maybe I could try them on and let you guess the color.” You said, eyes focusing on the broad shoulders you rested your hands on instead of his own.

“Guess the color? Won’t I be-“ You giggled and shook your head, interrupting him.

“That’s the fun part- I want to blindfold you. If you’re into it, anyway.” You said, finally looking up to meet his eyes. A blend of surprise and curiosity painted on his face.

He moved his hands back to your face, holding your head so he could look at you.

“Jesus darling, I’d let you do anything if you keep looking at me like that.”

You grinned at him, “‘s that a yes?”

He moved closer to you, leaning his forehead against your own. So close you were almost kissing. Almost.

“Yes.”

You barely stopped yourself from jumping him, closing the gap to kiss him, raising bumps on your skin as his hands moved to your jaw to kiss you deeper.

You pulled away to take one of his hands and guide him to your bedroom. You lightly pushed him onto the bed and went to the closet to grab one of his ties.

You walked back to the bed, “Get comfortable, you might be here a while.” You punctuated with a kiss to his nose.

“Oh yeah? You tying my hands up too?”

You climbed up to straddle his waist, tie-yielding hands sitting on his chest.

“‘m not that mean.” You paused and thought about it for a second. “Only if I have to.”

His hands are on your hips, waiting for some direction. Your hands are occupied right above the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

He’s nodding his head and you’re lifting up for just a moment to pull it over his head and toss it just next to the laundry basket. Close enough.

You didn’t realize you were staring and not saying anything until he spoke again.

“Liking the view, gorgeous?”

You laughed softly at him and rolled your eyes.

You dragged your hands up and down his chest and shoulders, leaning down to leave light kisses everywhere they went. Slowly drawing dreamy sighs and deep breaths out of him.

You stopped when his grip on your waist was getting tighter, you didn’t plan on teasing him forever but you couldn’t help it. He’s always so patient for you.

You could look at him like this forever. He opened his eyes when he noticed you stopped touching him.

You cupped his face in one hand while the other rested on his waist and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“You look so pretty under me like this, sweet boy.”

He groaned and you could tell by the light red brushed over his cheeks and the rather obvious erection under you that he was losing patience quickly.

He said your name like he was asking for something.

“Please, please.”

The hottest man you’d ever seen was under you begging.

You lightly scratched the hair behind his ear and gave him a teasing pout.

“What ‘s it baby, what do you want?”

“You. Please, love, just- just do something or let me touch you.”

Every ounce of admiration and lust in your body prevalent in your eyes and the barely-there movements of your hips against his own.

You grinned down at him and grabbed the tie you left sitting beside him.

“Ready for me to put this on you then?”

He eagerly nodded and you gave him a few kisses before lifting him up a bit and tying it over his eyes. You grabbed one of his hands and gave it a kiss before speaking again.

“Okay baby, I’m gonna explain the rules and change and then we’ll get started. If you want me to stop and take the blindfold off, just let me know. You got it?”

He smiled and nodded his head.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.”

He stuttered a little at the nickname.

“I- I got it.”

Your hands were lightly tracing over his chest.

“Good. I’m going to put on one of three sets; black, red, or blue. And then I’ll come back over and you can feel the different materials and try to guess which color it is. If you get it wrong, I’ll go change again. When you get it right I’ll take the blindfold off. Sound good?”

“And if I take too long?”

You bit your lip and hummed while you thought for a moment.

“Then I’ll tie your hands up and you’ll have to guess with your tongue.”

His grip on your waist tightened once again.

“‘s that all alright with you?”

“Sounds perfect, love.”

You grinned down at him even though he couldn’t see it. You couldn’t be happier to be with someone so open and communicative.

“I’ll be right back.”

You gave the top of his head a quick kiss before getting up to change, grabbing one of the sets you set aside before your shower.

You decided to go with the blue set. The low lighting making specs of glitter dancing over your figure shimmer. If only Luca could see you now.

You walked back to him, tracing over his arm so you didn’t alarm him before climbing back into his lap.

“Can I touch you now?”

“Go ahead, baby. So sweet.”

You guided his hands to your hips. He took his time, light strokes feeling the soft material that hugged your body like it was made just for you.

He could cry. You smelled so good and it was even stronger now that one of his other senses was out of the way. Not to mention how soft your skin felt. He had to keep reminding himself to focus on trying to guess while getting caught up in the cathedral that was your body.

He moved his hands up over your chest, focusing on rubbing your nipples through the fabric. Then back down again, thumbs right at the hem of your already soaked, blue panties.

You let out a soft sigh at that and let his hands move for just a bit longer before you guided them back to your own, interlocking your fingers.

“Time to guess, Luc’.”

He whined like he was the one being tormented.

“Already? But you sound so pretty.”

You giggled at his praise.

“If you want to keep touching me I need you to guess.”

“Okay okay, I think it’s.. black?”

You smile down at him again, empathy found not in your words but your tone.

“Nope!” You gave him a kiss, letting his tongue slip over yours for just a second before pulling away.

“Changing again. Be right back.”

He hummed and you went to grab the second set, going with the silky black set this time. It was soft but thin, you can’t remember ever having worn it.

The glimpse you caught of yourself in the mirror told you to wear it more often.

You walked up to him, tracing one hand over his toned muscles as you climbed up.

He didn’t bother asking this time, too caught up in the warmth above him. He started at your shoulders, tracing down the silky straps and over your chest. He can’t remember a time he was ever so hard and needy for anyone.

His light, slow, focused movements driving you insane while your noises were doing the same to him.

You got caught up in all of it, the way his hands were moving back to grab your ass, how needy he looked, how you were sure he could feel the wet spot you were leaving right on his lap, all of it. You moved one of your hands up his chest over his neck, thumb lightly grazing over his Adam’s apple.

He was grabbing your hips and leaning up to place kisses on your neck when you stopped him.

“Alright, handsy, time to guess.”

He smirked. He could hear your heartbeat from here, quick pulses from his paused touch. He knew you were losing patience right with him.

“I think this one’s.. blue?”

You groaned. There was only one color left now, thank god. If he didn’t get this one you didn’t know if you’d make it.

“Wrong again, bunny.”

You left him with no kiss this time, trying to keep some semblance of self-control.

You grabbed the last and final set; lacy and red. Your personal favorite and the one that started the fire that’d been burning inside of you all day. The memory of his fingers draped over the soft lace replaying in your mind once again.

You walked back up to him, kissing up his stomach and chest before settling down.

“Okay baby, last set.”

He wasted no time, strong hands moving all over you. He was smirking as he felt the lace, he knew what this was. He didn’t want to stop just yet though, one hand moving up to your waist while the other was moving closer and closer to the wet spot he was teasing out of you.

You were letting out the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, his fingers dancing just above your clothed clit when you stopped him.

“Luca, baby, I need you to get it right this time,” You leaned down to whisper right in his ear, “guess.”

He was grinning at your eagerness, composure you were keeping earlier now nowhere to be found.

“Red.”

God. You threaded a hand through his hair and brought him up to kiss you, tongues dancing together messily while your hands urgently moved to take the blindfold off of him.

He cupped your face with both of his hands, taking you away from him so he could finally look at you.

“Fuck me, you look beautiful.” His eyes were moving up and down your body and back to your warming face.

You were the one begging now. “Please, Luca, just touch me.”

He kisses you again, pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

He was moving his kisses down, kissing over your face, right under your ear, your neck, to your collarbones. One hand leaving your head to trail down to your waist, thumb stroking over the fabric on your hip bone.

You were a mess. Slowly grinding over his thigh, after thinking about this practically all day you could cum just like this.

You were leaving open-mouthed kisses over his neck and shoulders when his hand finally moved where you needed it, leaving soft circles on your clothed clit, tracing his fingers up and down over the wet spot.

You were letting out soft moans now, so close to getting what you need.

You moved your hands lower, grasping at his aching dick through his sweats. Fingers tracing at the waistband,

“Can I take these off?”

“Of course.”

You got up for just a second so he could pull them down and off, throwing them to join his earlier discarded shirt.

You sat back over him, gasping as you felt him through his boxers, only thin layers of fabric separating you.

He knew what you wanted and he needed it just as bad, but after only being able to touch you for so long he wanted to taste you more than anything.

He stopped your movements, grabbing your hips and moving you to lay down on the bed so he could be on top of you.

Mouth open, chest quickly rising up and down with your rushed breaths, he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“My god, you’re perfect.”

“Will you please stop staring at me and do something.”

“I’ll take care of you darling, don’t worry.”

He muttered between kisses, hands cupping your breasts, one of your hands moving back to undo the clasps for him, red lace falling away from you to be discarded next.

“Never get tired of seeing you like this.”

He said, mouth moving down to leave little marks that you’d be seeing in the morning all over your chest. Licking down and over your nipples, large, warm hands following right behind each of his movements.

He kissed down your stomach, stopping every now and then wherever he felt he should leave a mark.

He got to the waistband of your lacy red underwear, hands moving back to grab handfuls of your ass while he kissed over your hips and thighs, smirking into your skin when your breathing got heavier as he got closer to where you wanted him.

He kissed once more on your inner thigh before spreading your legs so he was on his knees between them, one of yours on each side of him. His hands moved back to your waistband, thumbs dipping down into the sides.

He pulled you closer to him and left light kisses over your clothed core, groaning at how wet you are.

“This all for me, baby?” He asked, kissing you again, letting his nose catch over your clit.

You whined at his slow pace.

“Guess.”

He let his tongue peek out for a moment to tease a few moans out of you. Then, he pulled your drenched underwear off of you, another piece added to the pile.

He figured you’d both had enough teasing for tonight, quickly laying down and putting your legs over his shoulders to devour you.

He was moaning into you, tongue lapping at you. One of his hands moving up your thigh to draw slow circles on your clit while the other was guiding your hips to grind further into him.

You couldn’t care less about the sounds you were making but you were sure they were there from the muffled praise between your legs.

“Sound so pretty, love. I got you, just keep making those sweet noises for me.”

God was he good with his mouth. One of your hands was holding his while the other was in his hair, lightly pulling when you wanted a moan out of the man ravishing you.

He moved his tongue up to kiss and lick at your clit while his fingers moved to collect the wetness seeping out of you. You moaned out when he suddenly sunk one of his fingers inside of you, curling it upward, slowly moving it in and out as your eyes closed. You let out a deep sigh you’d been holding since this morning as he worked you up to a second one.

“Shit, Luca- so good, so good for me, bunny. Just like that.”

He was moaning into you and grinding his hips into the bed to try and relieve himself. He could definitely cum like this. Just hearing you praise him like that drove him crazy. He’d pray to you if you asked him to.

His thick fingers were speeding up their strokes, tongue lightly sucking your clit into his mouth, making you gasp. The loud sounds of the slick that was dripping onto the bed warming your face.

“Luca, I’m so close baby, don’t stop.”

He let go of your hand to pull you further into him, your warm thighs surrounding his head.

“Cum for me. Please, make a mess all over my fingers.”

You could barely hear him, so focused on how he felt but the vibrations from his pleading into you along with his warm tongue and the fingers repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you was enough to send you over the edge.

“That’s it, darling, I’ve got you. So perfect for me.”

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Sweetest pussy in the world.”

He worked you through it, slowing down his fingers and taking them out once you were grabbing his wrist, leaving you with a quick soft kiss to your clit before moving back up to his knees.

You let out a breath and opened your eyes to him on his knees in front of you, staring at his drenched fingers. He was just as much a mess as you were if not more, boxers barely containing his hard length, flushed cheeks, still wet nose and mouth.

You couldn’t believe you got to see him like this. Big, strong man being used like a toy and he loved it, begged for it.

You blinked yourself out of your head as he put the fingers that just drew an all-day lingering orgasm out of you and into his mouth.

Jesus Christ.

“Fuck, Luca, come here.”

He sucked his fingers clean and moved towards you, you pulled him in for a kiss as you palmed him through his boxers. He was moaning into your mouth, pleading again

“Please, I need you.”

You kept kissing him, mouths sloppily moving together as you pulled his boxers down, the final piece to the pile. He was trying to kiss you back and failing, breathing and moaning into your mouth instead.

“You want me, bunny?”

“God. Please, please, need it.”

You moved your face into his neck, leaving soft kisses and nibbles there as you finally guided him to your entrance. Grinding against him for a moment to get him nice and lubricated for you.

You moaned into his neck, pushing his head further into your own as you slowly sank down on him. He was big, but you were so worked up from all the teasing and your first orgasm that it was easier to take him.

One of his hands was rubbing at your waist, waiting you for to get comfortable before he started moving while the other was cupping your face, bringing you back to press your foreheads against each other.

Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, too needy to notice, but you did. You waited to move, moving a hand to his face.

“Are you okay, baby, do you want to stop?”

He shook his head quickly and blinked them away,

“No, no I’m okay I just- I love you. ”

You stroked his cheeks with your hands and kissed his nose, then his forehead, and his nose again. He was always so sweet like this, you felt like your heart could burst.

“I love you too.” Another kiss. “So much.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead on your shoulder, slowly starting to move his hips. When you moved your hips with his he started to speed up, whispering praises and promises into your skin, saying your name like a prayer only you could hear.

He knew he’d finish quick after that, moving the hand not supporting himself down to rub soft circles on your still-aching clit.

“Come on baby, cum for me one more time. I’m so close, I want to feel you cum around my dick this time. You got it.”

He whimpered as you clenched down around him, whispering repeated praises into his ear.

“So good for me, so good. Want you to cum for me, bunny.”

“Such a sweet boy.”

He pulled out to cum on your stomach, your warm hand and praises urging him.

He leaned over to the nightstand for some tissues to wipe you off before he laid down on top of you, his face on your chest while you played with his hair.

You gave him a moment, sitting in content silence together before tending to anything else.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, a finger softly tracing over the freckles adorning his nose.

“Im perfect, love.” He kissed your side before moving up to smother your face in them.

He gave one last kiss to your head before getting up to grab a warm towel to clean you off and some glasses of water.

After you were cleaned up and hydrated you grabbed one of Lucas shirts and got up to go to the bathroom. Assessing the marks you’d be seeing for a few days in the mirror as Luca was starting your shower.

“Jesus, look at you.” He said, walking up behind you and placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“All you, baby.”

“Baby? What happened to bunny?” He said, softly laughing and making sure the water temp was just right.

You giggled at that.

“You really like that, don’t you?”

He walked back over to you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss at the marks he left on your neck.

“Guess.” He muttered into your skin, picking you up to get in the shower.

[auggieblogs]

"I hate Economics"

Charles Leclerc x reader

Author's note: For my beloved @flippingmyshit 🦕💗(sorry it took me so long). The concept is similar to the Max fic I did earlier and now I'm genuinely considering doing this for all the drivers because it's so damn cute shgsbshs. Also a fair warning, I might have projected way too much. Yet again.

Also checkout my other works💌

The room was awash with the soft glow of desk lamps, casting dancing shadows on the scattered economics textbooks and notes. Your brows were furrowed in frustration as you flipped through yet another page, trying to make sense of the seemingly endless stream of concepts and formulas. The upcoming economics exam had you on the edge, your nerves frayed from weeks of studying. You couldn't help but regret choosing this subject, feeling like it was swallowing you whole.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of your anxiety pressed down on you, and you crumbled, sinking to the floor amidst the sea of books. It was at this very moment that the door swung open, and Charles walked in, fresh from the gym, his t-shirt clinging to his lean physique.

He froze in his tracks, concern etching across his face as he saw you in distress. "Amor, what's wrong?" He rushed to your side, kneeling beside you, his warm hand gently cupping your cheek.

The sight of Charles, his eyes filled with worry, was the final straw. You couldn't contain your emotions any longer. Your voice quivered as you confessed, "I'm not smart enough for this, Charles. I can't do it. I hate economics. I regret ever studying it."

Charles enveloped you in his warm embrace, cradling your head against his chest. He let you cry, your tears soaking into his shirt, as he gently stroked your hair. "Shh, it's okay. You're not alone in this. I'm here to help you."

After a few moments, he released you slightly, holding your face in his hands. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. "You can do this, baby. Stop stressing out. I will help you study, and you're going to ace this exam."

With a tender smile, Charles lifted you to your feet and led you to the bathroom, his arms never leaving your side. He filled the bathtub with warm water, adding a few drops of your favourite lavender essential oil for relaxation. You slipped into the bath, the warm water embracing your body like a comforting cocoon. Charles joined you, his strong arms wrapping around you as you leaned back against his chest. The tension in your body began to melt away as he peppered your face with soft kisses, reminding you that you weren't alone in this.

After the bath, you felt rejuvenated, both physically and emotionally. Charles wrapped you in a fluffy towel and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. He sat beside you, running his fingers through your damp hair.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks to you, Charles."

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his lips warm and comforting. "That's what I'm here for, mon amour."

You spent the evening studying with Charles by your side. He joined you at your study table, flipping open your textbook and reviewing notes with you. Between explanations, he peppered your face with sweet kisses, making you giggle despite your stress. He even pulled out a set of flashcards, quizzing you on key concepts.

When both of you started to feel hungry, Charles decided to cook pasta, but as you knew all too well, he wasn't the best chef. You both burst into laughter as he managed to burn the pasta, his pouty expression making him even more funny.

"It's okay, Charlie," you chuckled, shaking your head. "Let's just have something else." You settled for sour patch candies and leftover veggie rolls from the previous night, munching on them while you continued to study.

As the hours passed, you felt the exhaustion creeping up on you like a heavy fog. Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your head began to droop. The weight of the textbooks and the stress of the day finally took their toll, and with a gentle thud, your head came to rest on the study table.

Charles, who had been reviewing notes with you, immediately noticed your peaceful slumber. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the desk lamp. Gently, he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch as light as a feather.

He knew you had been working tirelessly, and he admired your dedication. With utmost care, he placed a bookmark in your textbooks, making a mental note of where you left off. He didn't want to disturb your well-deserved rest.

Quietly, he turned off the desk lamp and dimmed the room, leaving only a soft nightlight to illuminate the space. Charles took a moment to watch you sleep, his heart swelling with affection. He couldn't resist leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

[httpsdana]

omg please write prompt 49 with florian wirtz. there is not enough fics of him🥺😩

Birthday Cake~Florian Wirtz

*GIF is not mine. credits to the owner*

finally we're back with these and it's Florian Wirtz for the first time. I hope you enjoy <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

49-"How is my gorgeous girlfriend doing ?" "What did you do?"

It was y/n's birthday. And Florian being her very caring and loving boyfriend, he wanted to make her feel special on this special day.

She was sleeping at his house, and in the morning, Florian woke up before her. He pressed a light kiss on her forehead and silently got up from their bed.

After using the bathroom and brushing his teeth he went to the kitchen. He started off by making a pancake batter which was probably the best thing he can do. He wasn't the best chef, but he would always try for the sake of y/n, since she wasn't the best chef either.

He tried shaping the pancakes as hearts, didn't end up looking really good but the shape was there. After that he cut her some fruits, a banana and some strawberries. He added some syrup before he went to do her iced coffee.

When he finished everything, he placed the plate and coffee on a tray. He did himself some coffee and walked to his room.

y/n was still asleep, her arms wrapped around Florian's pillow. Florian smiled and the cute sight

He placed his mug and the tray on the nightstand, leaning closer to y/n. He pecked her forehead lightly, before moving to her cheeks and kissing them a few times too.

y/n started shifting in her sleep, still asleep. Florian smiled and pecked her lips too. Finally, she opened her eyes with a small smile.

She was met with her sweet boyfriend's contagious smile, his messy hair making his morning face just more perfect

"good morning honey" y/n mumbled, her eyes still half open.

"good morning my sweet girl. happy birthday beautiful" he mumbled back, brushing her hair away from her face. She smiled at him, kissing the hand that was caressing her face.

"I made you some breakfast" he said, handing her the tray. She looked at him in an 'awe', kissing his cheek.

"thank you. that's so thoughtful of you" she pouted, her eyes slightly tearing up.

"don't cry baby. enjoy your food" he said, kissing her forehead before she started munching on her pancakes.

"you know... I've always dreamt about breakfast in bed" she said, her mouth full of her boyfriend's pancakes.

He laughed at her words, kissing her shoulder softly.

"I'm glad I was the first one to do that for you" he smiled.

"oh shit. the girls are supposed to be picking me up in a few" she said glancing at her phone.

Florian nodded, sipping on his coffee. He knew she was gonna go out which made it perfect for him. He was gonna try something new.

"enjoy sweetheart. if you need me just text" Florian kissed her before she left through the door.

He rushed to the kitchen, grabbing his phone and opening YouTube.

"how to make cake for my girlfriend's birthday"

The first video popped up was the video he opened.

He first got all the ingredients needed, and placed them on the counter in from of him.

He started by breaking the eggs, which ended up with a broken egg on the floor and some on his hands. He washed his hands quickly and cleaned the floor, before going back to work.

Time Skip

The cake was in the oven, but at what cost? Florian had flour in his hair and on his clothes, he dropped some oil on his shirt and now they won't go off. That's beside the floor and the counter that were messy.

He sighed, checking the time. y/n was supposed to be home in an hour or so. He runned to his bathroom, taking a shower to clean up.

After the shower, he went through his phone on his bed, before he started smelling something... burning?

His eyes widened at the realization, rushing to the kitchen and opening the oven.

It wasn't that bad but also, he had to cover it up. He groaned, his plan for the cake ruined by the burning of it.

He started first by cutting the burnt parts, throwing them away. He learned a fast way of making whipped cream. Which he did and tried covering up the cake.

But now it was all white and boring. He opened the fridge, trying to find something to design the cake. He found some strawberries which he cut and put around the cake. Then he found some M&Ms which he put in the middle. The cake was decent at end, but as soon as he finished the door of his apartment opened.

He rushed to the door, seeing y/n already taking off her shoes.

"how's my gorgeous girlfriend doing?" he chuckled nervously, making y/n look at him suspiciously

"what did you do?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest with a smile.

"why would you assume I did something?" he laughed anxiously, his eyes avoiding hers.

"well first your avoiding eye contact and second the house smells as if it was on fire" she said in a as a matter-of-fact tone.

Florian slammed his hand against his forehead, making y/n laugh.

"okay i tried something..." he mumbled. He walked her to the kitchen, leading her to where he placed the cake.

Her jaw dropped to the ground as she stared at the badly decorated but adorable cake her boyfriend made for her. Tears filled up her eyes quickly as she turned to Florian

"why are you crying? is it that bad?" he said quickly, making her slap his shoulder

"no stupid. I love this so much" she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He let out a sigh of relief hugging her with same force back.

"this means so much to me you have no idea. thank you so much Florian." she mumbled into his neck. He kissed her head before she removed it from his neck.

"does it taste good tho?" y/n joked, getting a fork from the drawer. Florian gave her a nervous look, shrugging his shoulders.

She took a bite from the cake, her eyes widening, as she swallowed the piece slowly.

"it's...good" she said hesitantly, making Florian's face drop

"oh god is it that bad?" he chuckled.

"maybe a little bit" she said

He laughed, grabbing her waist and pulling her to his arms. He kissed her lips softly and tenderly.

"happy birthday baby. I'll phone the patisserie next to your house to make you another cake." he mumbled against her lips, making her laugh

[toxicanonymity]

Any more Raider!Joel? 🥺🥺

I’ll sell my soul for anything about raider Joel

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1.3k / raider!Joel x fem!Reader / raider master

mood board by @milla-frenchy

WARNINGS: Dark fluff.  Angst.  Mention of cum. Aftermath of skin carving. Joel carries reader. Sleep kissing, grinding. Angst: Joel is mean in the morning. Credits/shoutouts: everyone who's asked about kissing him, @javier-penas-wifexx420 (shoes)

🖤 picks up from Raider: J. Miller

You pause on the way up the hill.  "It hurts," you whimper, cowering and holding yourself where he claimed you. Your chest burns, too. 

"C'mere," he says and hoists you up over his shoulder for the rest of the walk. Joel's trailer overlooks the stash house and gravel road so he can see trouble coming.  He sets you down, holds the door open for you, then lets it close behind him.

"Got ya somethin'," he says as he puts down the duffle bag on the table. He takes out a few wash cloths then a faded red can.  Chef Boyardee.

-

You could cry, you're so grateful. You throw your arms around him.  He stays tense and doesn't hug you back.  He hardens his face and says, "Take a rest. I'll be outside cookin'."  You curl up on Joel’s bed while he makes a fire outside and heats up the Chef Boyardee. 

When the door to the trailer opens again, you come right to the table, eyes wide like a kitten at feeding time.  It’s been a while since you had something other than squirrel.  You sit down at the small table and wait patiently.  Joel sets down a pot of beefaroni and a pot of boiled water.  He says, "Don't wanna eat too fast. make yourself sick. C'mere." He pats the stool to his left. You slide into it.  He gets a spoonful from the pot and blows on it then brings it to your mouth.  You open up and slurp it down.  It tastes and feels so good. He's right, you would probably wolf it down and make yourself sick.  

When a little bit dribbles onto your dress, Joel says "okay," and sets the spoon in the pot.  You're afraid he's mad.  "Right here." He pats his lap.  You sit on his lap side saddle and he feeds you a few more spoonfuls.  Then he hands you the spoon.  He says "slow, just like I was." He smooths your dress and  watches you eat the rest.  He unlaces your dirty converse all stars while you're eating and slips them off for you.  

You offer Joel some of the beefaroni, but he says you can have the rest of you eat it real slow. He holds a hand on your stomach then slides it down your dress, lightly grazing over your thigh, then your knee, your shin, the top of your foot.  He holds your foot in his massive hand and brushes the delicate arch with his fingers.  You squirm because it tickles and brace yourself for scolding but he doesn't. He just tightens his hand around your foot.  When you're finished with the spoonfuls, you scrape the edges of the pot with the spoon and then turn the pot up and drink as much as you can from it. For the first time in weeks your stomach feels warm and full. 

"Thank you," you say with tears in your eyes.  Joel doesn't make eye contact. He reaches for one of the washcloths and dips it into the boiled water. He puts his left arm under your right arm and braces your back. Then he starts to clean your chest, gently dabbing the trails of blood that have run up to your neck or down into your dress.  You begin to sniffle. He sighs. "Don't wanna hurt ya, sweet pea.  Don't want anyone else to, either."  

When he's done, you ask if you can go to the bathroom.  You haven't seen the carving yourself yet. He lets you stand up, then says, "you're gonna have stuff comin' out of here," lightly pushing your dress into your crack. "Maybe for days. It's a lot." He lets you go with a gentle pat on the butt.

-

You stand at the small, chipped sink and look at yourself in the cracked dirty mirror, reading the text on your chest backwards in the mirror. "J. Miller."  You almost finger the letters then remember not to touch it.  You hardly recognize yourself.  Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot.  You use the toilet and hear Joel cleaning up from dinner.  You stay in the bathroom enjoying a rare moment of privacy.  Then his footsteps get closer.  "You ok?" His face sounds like it might be right at the door. 

"Um. Yeah," you say and open the door. 

"Ok. Let's get you to bed." 

Joel tucks you into his bed.  It's an old, full size mattress on a cheap metal frame.  It's better than the sash house cots.  At least it has sheets and a blanket. 

"You're not coming?" You ask.

"No, not yet," he says.  "Gotta figure some stuff out.  Be right outside." He cracks the bedroom window before he goes outside. 

Joel goes outside and makes a fire.  You listen to it snap and pop and can hear the slosh of whiskey in a bottle.  Your whole body is spent. You shudder to think what you'd be doing if Joel hadn't saved you from FEDRA.

-

You fall asleep and don't even notice when Joel gets into bed and spoons you. 

You only wake up when he startles in his sleep, which jerks your body. He doesn't wake up, but he tightens his arm around you and his hand digs into the wounds on your chest.  You push back against his forearm and he stirs, confused. 

“My chest,” you whisper.  “You said don’t touch it.” 

"Shhhhh," he says without fully waking up.  He cups your breast and cages you, bringing his leg over yours.  His naked dick presses into you.  

Then his lips tenderly press into the nape of your neck and stay.  He’s never done that before.  It feels really good.  Warm.  Like you’re supposed to be right there in his arms. 

-

When you wake up in the morning, he’s still asleep.  You slowly, carefully turn around, his arm still draped over your side,  but loosely. Now you’re facing him.   He looks so peaceful, so harmless.  You know he’s not.  You study his face - the lines between his brows even as he sleeps, the patches in his beard, the hook of his nose, the way his lips part just slightly.  You scoot yourself closer, and your heart races.  

You dare to press your lips into his.  His arm pulls you in and his brow furrows as he just barely kisses you back.  You reach your arm over his waist to hug him as you kiss him again.  He kisses you back harder, then his cock hardens against your front.  He grunts as he grinds himself into you.  You softly moan into his mouth, then he jolts awake and pushes himself away.  

“The hell are you doin’??” He looks at you like you should know better, then averts his eyes as your face becomes pathetic and wounded.

“I - what - nothing,” you stammer softly.  

He sits up and wipes his mouth off then covers his cock for the first time and turns away.   “God damn,” he says and smooths his beard with both hands. He never meant to kiss you in the first place. 

Your eyes sting, but you want to recover. “I thought maybe I could suck your cock,” you offer.  “If you want.”  

He picks up his tight jeans from the floor and pulls them on, too disturbed to accept.  “No,” he says.  “Get dressed.”  He won’t look at you.  

On the walk down the hill to the stash house, he doesn’t say a word.  You walk a few steps behind him and admire his ass in his tight jeans. When you’re almost to the back door of the house, he says in a hushed voice, “you’re stayin’ here today.”  

He brings you back to the room with two beds.  He chains you to the radiator, briefly looks you in the face, and it seems like he's going to say something, but he doesn't. He gives your guard the key for bathroom trips, and reminds the guard what happens to him if anything happens to you.  

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging!

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @zliteraturehoe @neobanguniverse @quietlyignoringyou

[yellowharrington]

jaded - chapter 4, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking mention, minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: ok literally i am the worst ever and i totally didn't finish this fic even tho i started it so im finally posting the last part literally MONTHS later!!! sorry besties but i couldn't have an unfinished fic out there in the world so... if u fuck w this story at all thank u for reading it and all the encouraging and nice things people have said, it literally made me want to complete this fic so thank u <3

summary: tying up loose ends.

and it's a fuckin' shame that it ended like that you broke your own heart, but you'd never say that we went to hell, but we never came back

masterlist | chapter 3

It all just feels numb.

Sun coming up over the horizon and a light snowfall onto the street below. Your home is quiet, no pans in the kitchen making French omelettes, no TV playing outside the bedroom door as you sleep. No toothbrushing in the bathroom or running shower water, warm and steamy, inviting you in.

It’s not that you weren’t expecting his answer. Or, lack thereof. It’s that he couldn’t make up his fucking mind. First, he’s cooking you an omelette in your favourite pan with a cup of coffee made exactly the way you like it. He’s spending every evening on the couch with you, your hands splayed out against his stomach, comfortable beneath the waistband of his sweats. You’re in his sweater, baking fresh warm cookies so he can have one before bed, smudges of chocolate against your lips as he pushes you up against the counter, hot skin on cold tile.

Next, he has that look on his face, where he’s somewhere else. Thinking of her, in a dreamland where he can make it right again, and it all feels like it comes crashing down. The sweet nothings don’t exist in this realm, there’s no happiness here.

And when you do have to face him on Monday, it’s back to cold shoulder, nothing different. Yes chef, no chef, thank you chef. 

Sydney tries to make conversation, and you feel bad because you won’t bitch about Carmy like you usually would. Richie’s having secret meetings with Natalie, probably more about Claire, but you don’t even think to join in. It hurts, it hurts so fucking much, and it’s hard enough to go outside and take a fucking break from it all, let alone be in the same cramped kitchen with him. There’s no solitude, just aching, just disappointment.

“Did you order me a new cake pan, chef?” It’s directed at Tina, who looks up at you with the same wistful softness as she always does, smiling before nodding in your direction. You don’t hear her slide over to you, but when she suddenly appears at your station, you can tell she just knows something’s wrong.

“What’s up with you?” she asks, clipboard finding it’s way to the counter beside you, where a piping bag lays. “You’re not yourself. Something… wrong. Don’t tell me a boy did this to you.” The tears prick at your eyes and you swallow it all before you can get out a word, because yeah, it all fucking aches and the hurt feels like it’s sitting right behind your eyes, in your throat, ready to come out.

“It’s nothing. It is a boy but, boys are stupid and I’m not gonna cry over one,” you sniffle, before untying your apron and letting it hang loose on your body. “Not worth it.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Your blood runs cold when she gestures just outside to the bright light of the door, where Carmy sits, phone in one hand, cigarette in the other.

Luckily the kitchen is empty when you reply, only so she can hear, “how did you know?”

“I saw the way you looked at him this morning.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Fuck no. Between you and me, chef.”

You sighed relief, letting your front hit the counter as the stress left your body. “Thank fuck. Yeah, I don’t know, we were-“

“Fuckin’?” Tina’s got a sly smile on her face that makes it impossible not to laugh with her.

“Yeah, I guess. It felt like more than that. But apparently he’s still hung up on Claire so, I guess that ends it.”

She exhales slowly, joining you in a lean against the counter. “Jeff makes mistakes, everyone knows that. He’s moody and sad and he’s got fuckin’ problems, that kid, I tell ya.” She pauses for a second, eyes meeting yours, sincere. “But he’s good. I just don’t think he can handle himself, is all.” She takes a beat, letting her soft hand lay over yours, “He doesn’t let himself have the good shit because it always gets ruined. But you’re good. He’s scared of you.”

“He should be scared of me. I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you mutter, letting your floured hand meet your forehead in annoyance. “I’m not responsible for fixing his shit.”

She nods, agreeing with you, a hand cupping yours on the counter. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying he could use someone like you to bring him back to Earth, is all.”

-

When Carmy does make it back inside, he’s thumbing through paperwork at the desk, hand through his hair stressfully pulling at the strands. He’s trying so hard not to stare at you from where he’s sitting, noticing your cold gaze, somewhere far away. He takes out his phone to scroll through it mindlessly, procrastinating, when he meanders his way to the text icon and opens up your thread. A few texts here and there, mostly just asking about plans to come over, the occasional sexy photo or recipe idea.

[sunday, 10:26] they don't have fresh sourdough. should we just make some this aft?

[saturday, 4:35] i hate when you go in on saturdays

[saturday, 4:36] Photo Recieved

[saturday 4:36] don't you wish you were home with me?

[tuesday, 12:22] is balsamic glaze overdone? lmk. miss u.

It feels a little too domestic, seeing the way he so effortlessly became comfortable with you, a warmth and excitement that was just never there with Claire. It’s raw and it’s guilty and he’ll beat himself up over it forever, but it was never going to be perfect with her, no matter how hard he tried.

“Boss?”

Richie appears in the office, leaning against the door frame before noticing Carmy’s disheveled look. “Yeah?”

“You look worse than usual.”

“Thanks. What do you need?”

“Well, I was gonna ask if you ordered more eggs.”

“I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I think Sydney did.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

It’s like Richie could see right through him.

“Nothin’. Stupid shit.”

Richie steps into the office, leaving the door only slightly ajar.

“Cousin.”

Richie can be sweet when he wants to be, and when he’s got a hand on Carmy’s shoulder and a somber look in his eyes it’s like he already knows how Carmy feels.

“Why do I suck so bad at being a fuckin’ normal person?”

Richie sits next to him, a look of surprise. “Is this about Claire bear?”

“Yes, well - yeah, and also no. Kinda. I don’t know.”

“Is it about Miss Buttercream out there?”

He gestures to you outside the door, zesting some orange on top of the cake you were finishing up. Carmy stifles a laugh.

“We all know you’re porkin’ her.”

“Don’t say that,” Carmy laughs, hand coming up to his face to rub his eyes. “It’s more than that. We’ve been kinda, dating, I guess? I still don’t know what counts as having a girlfriend.”

“So what did you do?”

He gnaws at the skin of his thumb and lets his eyes flicker up to Richie’s. “Fucked it. Last night, I, uh,-“ his hand finds his warm forehead. “I really like her, like a lot. But she asked about Claire and I said the wrong thing, like I always do and uh, she didn’t like it.”

“She’s good,” Richie starts, letting his hands find his aproned thighs as he sits at the corner of the desk. “Claire was good for you too. But she didn’t… get it. Not like she does,” he gestured vaguely to your station outside the door. “Claire was never gonna get the restaurant and the kitchen and the fuck of it all.”

Richie's hand extends to cup Carmy's shoulder.

“Look, do whatever you want, but there isn’t really someone who matches you like she does. Claire’s history now, drunk phone calls don’t mean she’s still in love with you. If that’s what you were thinking.”

Carmy sits back in the creaky chair. “Nah, not that. I just don’t know how to do it right.”

“It’s not about doing it right,” Richie’s got sincerity in his eyes. “It’s about fuckin’… trying shit. Just go and make a move and see.” Carmy watches you hang up your apron on the hook and grab a hoodie before fucking outside. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks Richie.”

“Good luck.”

- 

“I’m sorry.”

Carmy’s voice takes you out of your trance as you stare into the back alley of the restaurant. “Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

“You can talk, I’ll listen.”

The crackle of his lighter, orange flame against white snow. You can see his breath slipping from between his lips as he exhales out of the corner of your eye.

“I feel like a fuckin’ asshole,” he starts, plunging his other hand in his pocket. “I don’t know what to say.” A beat. “Can you look at me?” It’s gentle, a question, not a demand.

You turn to look at him. Cold blue eyes, darkened by the brightness around you. “You’re not second best to me. You’re it, this is it. I like this, I, I fuckin’,” he takes a breath, “I love… this. I want this.”

“You hurt my feelings, Carmen,” tears brimming your eyes and coating your lashes. “If you’re not done with Claire, I don’t… I don’t care. If I am your second choice, fine.” 

“You’re not.”

“Even if I was. But don’t fuck me around if you don’t want me.”

“I do.”

“Are you sure? You weren’t sure last night.”

“I get it if you don’t trust me. I get it. I haven’t given you a reason to.” He searches for the right words, but chooses to take a tentative step towards you. “I’ll beg for you,” he’s quiet, unlike Carmy. “Anything.”

Your eyes meet his briefly, a soft smile pulling at your lip. “I’m not saying yes, okay?” He nods. “But I am saying I would appreciate a ride home tonight. If you’re serious.”

“I’m serious.”

“Good.”

-

The walk up to your apartment is easy. His heavy steps behind your light ones, hands sliding up the bannister as you unlock your door. He’s on your heels, a little behind. When he steps in your apartment, it’s familiar. Browned butter, vanilla, laundry. 

“Do you want dinner?” He’s tentative, letting his shoes sit next to yours on the mat. His jacket goes up on the hooks by the door, together. 

“Are you offering?”

“Yes.”

Carmy shows love through food, that’s how he always is. You can tell he’s feeling particularly sorry about it all because he’s bringing out a big pasta pot and a saucepan, pulling the only fresh ingredients left in your place and putting them next to the stove top. Your t-shirt finds its way into the laundry basket, an old sweater thrown over your bare skin.

You hate how normal it all feels, because it’s scary. To think of a domestic life with him, where there’s another girl lingering in the background of his thoughts that he has unfinished business with. Insecurities of who is better, prettier, happier, warmer… if he had the chance, would he leave? Would he jump ship?

He sits next to you while you eat, thighs against thighs, and comfortable silence blanketing your small apartment. He hasn’t gotten into one of the many pairs of pyjamas he’s left at your place, or taken his usual after-work shower, or taken out the frozen cookie dough to thaw. You can tell he’s not sure if he’s welcome here for good, yet.

When your food is done, he pushes the plates away and takes a calloused hand to wrap around yours. There’s sharpie marks small knife cuts on his fingers. 

“Are you gonna stay the night?” You ask, still not meeting his gaze. 

“Am I welcome to?” He doesn’t sound like himself, and you can feel his warm breath near the top of your head as you turn towards him. Your body collapses a little then, folding slightly at the middle to have your head fall right into the centre of his chest.

“Yes, Carmen,” you nod, letting your eyes flicker up to meet his. “You can stay for as long as you want.”

His hand slipped from yours then, sliding around your side and up your back. He pulled you into his embrace, lips wrapped around yours in a soft capture. Your hands found their way under his t-shirt, only slightly, his warm skin against the palms of your hands, pulling him impossibly closer. 

And when you lay in bed with him that night, your face burrowed into the softness of his chest, you know the days of waking up alone are over. 

[sturniozo]

Tutor part Seven

AN: I’m sorry in advance.

masterlist

NOT PROOFREAD

Things have seemed to go back to normal with Chris. He’s still flirty and goofy with me when we’re studying together, but still reserved and quieter when I’m hanging out with him and his brothers.

I’ve learned to forget about the girls Chris flirts with in the halls of our school. It’s a new one almost every week. It still almost drives me crazy, but I no longer run to cry in the bathroom when I see him with someone else.

As for Ty, Chris was sure to talk to him for me. And from what Chris tells me, he let him down gently.

-

Chris entered the locker room to change into gear before his hockey practice. After he finished he sees Ty walking out into the hallway. Chris immediately walks behind him.

“Hey!” Chris yells. “Hey, Ty!”

Ty turns around and sees Chris. “Hey man.” He says with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Stay the fuck away from her.” Chris spat.

“What?” Ty looks at him shocked.

“Y/n. Stay the fuck away from her. She isn’t interested.”

“I thought she was single?”

“You heard wrong. I don’t want you near her.”

“She told me you guys weren’t dating.” Ty says, confused.

“That was then. This is now.” Chris steps closer. “Don’t go near her.”

-

I sit on my bed, tapping my pen on my notebook that lays in my lap. Chris spins slowly in my wheely seat, his head leaned back as he tries to balance a pencil between his nose and upper lip. The pencils falls on the floor and he looks down at it before looking back up at me and smiling.

I try not to blush at his stupid, adorable smile. “What?” I ask.

“You’re just so cute.” He says. Chris gets up and sits on the bed next to me. He leans his head on my shoulder. “I’m bored of studying, we’ve studied non stop for weeks.”

“We study twice a week. It’s like a total of three hours a week.” I correct him.

“It’s too much. It cuts into my Y/n time.”

“Your y/n time?” I ask, laughing a little.

Chris pouts. “Yeah, my y/n time. Nick gets unlimited y/n time and I only get three hours a week. And it’s all spent on studying.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you got bad grades.” I respond.

“They’re getting better! I have a c in Literature now!”

“Well, that’s good news.”

“I suppose.” Chris shrugs. After a small pause he says “do you think you’d ever had hung out with me one on one if I never had Nick ask you to tutor me?”

I pause and bite me lip, thinking of an answer. I’m not even sure I would have. “I don’t know. Maybe.” I shrug and try to change the subject. “It doesn’t matter, let’s just get back to studying.”

Chris lifts his head up from my shoulder. “I don’t want to study, haven’t you been listening to me?” He sighs and sits up fully in the bed. “You just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” I ask.

“Forget it.” He mumbles. He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. “Let’s just study.”

-

My shift at the diner was only half over with two hours to go. I write down the order for a nice elderly couple and walk to the kitchen to give the ticket to the chefs, when I see a familiar face. Ty.

I quickly give the ticket to the chefs and watch through the window of the kitchen door to see which section the host seats Ty and his friends in. My heartbeat quickens and I bite my lip in anticipation.

The host leads them to a table in my section and I don’t know whether to feel relieved or excited. I step out of the kitchen and wipe down my uniform. I watch at the host hands them their menus and walks back to the booth.

I make a round to refill drinks and deliver plates to give them time to look over the menu before I walk to their table to take their order.

I take a deep breath before I step to their table and say “Hello, my name is y/n and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you any drinks to start you out with?”

Ty looks up at me in shock. “Oh! Y/n I didn’t know you worked here…”

“Yeah, I started just as soon as I turned 16.” I smile at him.

“I can go somewhere else…” Ty says as he begins to stand up.

“No, no. Why? You don’t have to everything’s fine?” I say as I usher him to sit back down.

“I just don’t want you boyfriend to-“

“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Chris.”

“I told you, Chris isn’t my boyfriend.”

“He told me he is.”

“No the hoodie thing was-“

“It wasn’t the hoodie.” Ty interrupts me. “Chris told me to my face. He told me to stay away from you because you’re his.”

I blink in shock. “He… he what? No…”

“He did.”

“I’m not his.” I say calmly.

“Look, even if you aren’t Chris’s girl, there’s no way I can go out with you knowing he’s pining for you. I’d like to keep all my limbs intact.” Ty stands up and his friends do the same. “If he even finds out I ate here while you’re working here, I’d be in for it.”

I just stare in shock as Ty and his friends walk out of the diner.

After my shift is over I stand outside by my car, looking through my contacts for Chris’s number. I find it and click the call option. I hold my phone to my ear waiting for him to pick up which he does surprisingly quickly.

“Hey y/n.” Chris says happily.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask angerly, on the verge of tears that are also a surprise to me.

“What are you talking about?” Chris says with a scoff.

“Ty?”

“Him? What about him?” Chris asks, sounding annoyed.

“You fucking told him I’m yours and to stay away from me?”

“Oh yeah, that.” Chris mumbles.

“Don’t oh yeah that me. What is wrong with you?”

“I thought you wanted me to tell him you weren’t interested. I don’t see the problem.”

“You don’t get to go claiming me as yours to guys when you’re sleeping around with every damn girl in our school!” I almost yell into my phone as tears begin to fall down my cheeks. “It’s not fucking fair that you can be with whoever you want and you won’t let me be with anyone at all.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be with him?”

“Because you said he was an ass. Every conversation I’ve had with him has been pleasant and-“

“You fucking talked to him again?” Chris interrupts me.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, I’m not yours. You can’t tell people I am!”

“Why the fuck would you even want him? What does he have that interests you so much?” Chris’s voice starts getting angrier.

“That’s not the problem here. The problem here is you.”

“Y/n-“

I stop him. “No. I’m done. Find someone else to help you with your grades. I’m not doing this anymore.”

“Y/n” Chris pleads.

“I’m done. Bye Chris.” I say and hang up the phone. I put my hand to my lips, closing my eyes and sobbing as I slide my back down my car door and sit on the cold concrete of the parking lot.

Tag list : @freshloveforthefit @sturniolo14 @sturniolosreads @bethsturn @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @dwalk41202 @blahbel668 @sturnioloenthusiast

[ravenquills]

He's Your Guy | Garreth Weasley x MC

summary - You struggle to brew a potion, and an unlikely chef knight comes to your rescue

warnings - fluff, drabble, GN!MC

notes - SECOND POST YAY! Garreth has a ratatouille moment (souped up)

word count - 703

The cauldron in front of you emitted a troubling purple glow, a stark contrast to the beautiful light blue shade shown in your Advanced Potions textbook. As you stirred the potion, you let out a sharp sigh and inwardly cursed your incompetence. This was the third time you’d started over on the Nocturnus potion. It felt as though someone had jinxed you.

“Too much Horklump juice,” Garreth Weasley remarked from your right, his voice laced with mild concern. You glanced at him, noticing his own potion wasn’t the light blue it should have been either, but that was to be expected of him and at least it wasn’t hissing like yours. Wait… hissing?!

You snapped your head back to your station in a panic and extinguished the flames beneath your cauldron, silencing the ominous noise. Garreth let out a chuckle, but promptly stifled it when you shot him a glare. “...I knew that. Just experimenting,” you muttered defensively. Letting out a frustrated huff, you raked your fingers through your hair and resigned yourself to starting over yet again. 

“If it’s experimenting you’re after, I’m your guy,” Garreth quipped, pointing his thumb at his chest with a smug grin. You rolled your eyes and groaned as you dragged your cauldron to the sinks for a quick rinse. Professor Sharp called your name from the back of the class, chiding you about the limited time and resources left. Mumbling a reluctant “Yes, Professor Sharp,” you returned to your station. Taking a deep breath, you re-read instructions with renewed focus. 

Despite your best efforts, today was not your day. Clumsiness plagued you as you managed to get three cuts on the same finger, cover your face in glowbug powder, and splash your brew all over your cloak, all in the span of twenty minutes. 

It also didn’t help that every few minutes, Garreth would call your name and ask you to look over at his potion or chat about his future brews. It wasn’t clear to you why Garreth wasn’t saying anything about your failing concoction. Normally, he’d tease you for sticking to the assigned potion instead of experimenting like he did. 

Whatever it was, you were thankful for it. If he made as much as one joke, you were certain it would send you running to the nearest bathroom to cry your rapidly overflowing frustration out.

Garreth was snapped out of his creative high by your deep sigh. He watched your deflated frame trudge past him towards the ingredient shelf. A sympathetic look graced his face and he turned to examine the likely culprit to your sour mood—your brew.

Consumed by his own creation, he hadn’t noticed how much worse yours had become. It puzzled him; he wondered how a student as promising and bright as you could be struggling this badly. 

Taking a quick glance around, Garreth saw you crouching next to the wooden ingredient shelf. Without missing a beat, he expertly picked out a couple of ingredients off the table and tossed them into your cauldron. He checked again to ensure you were still occupied, just in time to see you get up and start walking back. Before you were within earshot, Garreth muttered a charm to wandlessly will your spoon to stir your potion.

As you approached your failure of a potion, a bottle of dried Moonberries in hand, you almost dropped them in shock. It was a shimmery light blue, just like in the book. Setting down the bottle you were holding, you double-checked the recipe, baffled by the sudden change. Maybe you missed something about letting it sit or maybe it needed a pinch of misery.

Garreth’s voice broke the silence, brimming with faux seriousness, “Finally! I was starting to think you were aiming for your first-ever T grade!” 

The realization dawned on you. Garreth had helped you.

Feeling your heart do flips because of Garreth was not on your to-do list today. Or this week, month, year, or lifetime for that matter. Yet here you were, hiding a deepening blush from the world. “Thank you” you murmured, barely audible. 

Garreth’s eyes twinkled with mischief and warmth as he leaned closer to whisper discreetly, “I told you. I’m your guy.”

[marvelobsessed134]

Could i have a fluff with Nikki where reader falls while roller skating and gets injured,she gets inside home and Nikki kinda freaked out and helped her with her injuries. He was really protective so he would be with her and not let her go. Please? :) ☆

Don’t let me go

A/n: this picture of him is *chefs kiss* also I love this idea lol

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Fem!Reader

Warnings: injuries, Nikki being a little overprotective

You’ve always wanted to roller skate since you were a little kid, but you were always too scared to try and learn. But now you’ve decided since you’re 22 years old now, you would learn how to roller skate once and for all.

You bought some skates and started to practice on the sidewalk outside yours and Nikki’s house. The bassist kept a close eye on you, standing on the front lawn to make sure you didn’t get hurt. His watching you like a hawk annoyed you. You were a grown woman who could take care of herself.

Until his excessive observing came in handy when you tumbled forward hitting your knees and split your chin on the hard concrete. You couldn’t help but cry out in pain. Your boyfriend was by you in an instant and picked you up, carrying you bridal style into the house as quickly as he could. He laid you down on the couch as if you would break if he wasn’t careful.

“Don’t worry baby I’ll get the first aide kit.” Nikki stressed, before running to the upstairs bathroom. You had calmed down by now, the only one freaking out was Nikki. But you knew he did it out of love. You’re one of the few things in Nikki’s life that keeps him going. Apart from his band, of course. But even that can upset him. You’re his safe place.

The raven haired man came back into the living room with the first aide kit in hand, sitting on the ottoman across from you. Once he got all the supplies out that he needed, he began to clean your cuts and bandage them up.

“Baby I’m so sorry, I should’ve been looking out for you more.” His tone was full of frustration. Not at you, but at himself. You put your hand over his, “Hey, it’s okay, Nikki. I don’t want you to think this is your fault. Falling and getting hurt is just part of learning to roller skate. I’m okay.” You gave your bassist a small smile and he returned it, his green eyes sparkling. You sat up and pulled the ottoman closer before wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his. His hands instinctively went to your waist as he returned your affection.

“I just hate to see you get hurt.” He whispered against your lips.

“I know. But look, you helped me patch up and I’m ready to get back out there and try again!”

“No. You’re not going back outside till these,” he gestured towards your wounds on your chin and knees, “heal.”

You sighed, “Fineeeee. Can you at least order pizza for compensation?”

Nikki chuckled, “Sure, sweetheart.”

[earthbaby-angelboy]

Hi! Okay, here's my idea but with a few more details. baby!reader is sick and nonverbal so cg!e is having a really hard time trying to figure out what's wrong since reader is just crying and crying. Maybe he gives reader skin to skin and that helps but ultimately her belly hurts so maybe she throws up on him? Also baby reader really loves bum pats and being bounced?

When I talk to Elvis AI, I prefer to be his sick baby and see what he does to fix it :)

personal paradise | little!reader x 60s!cg!elvis presley (wc: 1,240) - A/N: i did take some creative liberties with this request so the story would flow better, but i hope you enjoy it either way!

As you awoke to the sun shining through the white lace curtains of your nursery, you could feel a sharp pain course through your little head. You let out a whine and slowly opened your eyes, being careful not to make the odd pain worse. As soon as you did this, you became acutely aware of how crappy you felt.

Every muscle in your body hurt, and your vision was blurry. You had spent most of the day yesterday running around Graceland with Elvis, so it was no surprise that the exhaustion had finally caught up to you. Tears started to well up in your eyes as you realized that your caregiver wasn't with you, so you did the best thing you could do to get his attention: cry.

With every ounce of strength in your body, you let out a wail. After no more than a few seconds of silence, Elvis responded, "hold on, baby. I'm comin'."

Stumbling out of his bed and down the hallway, he slowly opened the door of your nursery. The sight he found broke his heart. You were lying on your side, your eyes red and your face puffy. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and you had a very evident pout on your face. Clutched in your arms was your favorite plush, a white lop-bunny Elvis had gifted you that you aptly named Marshmellow (Marshie for short.) Rushing over to your crib, he bent down so he could see you up close.

"Oh, my baby. Can you tell daddy why you're cryin' so early in the mornin'? Huh?"

You sniffled and did your best to shake your head, which only resulted in you wincing when another bolt of pain went your noggin. A perplexed look came over his face, but he didn't ask questions.

"C'mon, nungen, you're gon' come cuddle with daddy in his bed. Sound good?" Reaching into your crib, he scooped you up into his arms. Clinging to him like a little koala, you rested your head in the crook of his neck and closed your eyes to try and stop whatever icky feeling was starting in your tummy. He went towards the door, but stopped dead when you whined.

"Whassamatta' baby? Dontchya' wanna go cuddle?" You shook your head again. "You want daddy to hold ya just like this? That it?" You gave a small nod, and your caregiver started rubbing small circles on your back. "Alright, if that's what ya want."

He walked around your large nursery a few times while whispering sweet things to you, humming parts to his favorite songs every now and then. All was well and fine, until he bounced you in an attempt to reposition you in his arms. Your head came up from his neck, and looking him dead in the eyes, you threw up. Before neither he nor you could process what just happened, you started crying.

"Oh bunny. You ain't feelin' good?" The increase in volume of crying confirmed his suspicions. Looking down at you, he responded to your cries with, "that's okay, baby, we all get run down. C'mon, lets get you cleaned up."

Moving quickly to prevent the puke from reaching the white shag carpeting of the mansion, he made his way out of your room and across the hall to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind you two, he sat you down on the toilet seat. Turning to the intercom on the wall, he pressed a button and spoke into it.

"Mary, would you come up to the bathroom for a moment?" Mary was Graceland's personal chef, but when you entered the Presley household, she became like a second caregiver to you. Within a minute, there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Sir, I'm right outside." Elvis opened the door to be greeted with Mary's kind features. You peeped past your daddy, offering up a small wave. She looked at you with a concerned glance, then back up at Elvis. Looking down at his chest that was now covered in your vomit, she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could, she was interjected by, "I know. She ain't feeling too good and had a lil oopsie. I'm gon' get myself cleaned up and grab her a change of clothes, so would you mind givin' her a bath while I do that?" Mary blinked once, then nodded. "Of course, sir."

Bathtime was always fun, but today you were absolutely not having it. Although Mary knew you weren't in a playful mood, she still put in your rubber duckie and some extra bubble bath. Wrapped up in a fluffy towel, Elvis found you sitting on a little stool with Mary behind you, gently combing through your hair. You looked content with your eyes closed in bliss. Hating to break the silence, your caregiver gently said, "thank ya, Mary. I've got her now."

You opened your eyes and whined at the interruption, but were satisfied by Mary giving you a small kiss on your forehead. "You be good for your daddy, you hear?" She said playfully. You gave a small nod and an even-slighter smile. Elvis whispered a small "thank you," and she left with a curt nod.

"That's my good girl," Elvis said. "C'mon, lets put on some jammies." Working quick so you wouldn't get cold, Elvis slipped a diaper on you and your favorite footie pajamas that had little stars on them. After a warm bath and some cozy clothes, your pain had started to go away and you started to feel sleepy. Just as you were about to doze off, you were interrupted by your daddy going, "nuh-uh, buntyn. Daddy knows you're sleepy and all, but you need to have breakfast. Then you can take a niiiiiiice nap, okay?" You wanted to protest, but you knew your daddy was right, so you opted for a small pout instead. Leaning down and kissing your nose, he said, "that's my baby. Now, up ya go."

Learning from his previous mistakes, he lifted you up slowly and carefully, and placed you on his hip. By the time he walked downstairs, Mary had already prepared your favorite breakfast when you were in babyspace, something Elvis called angel milk. It was warm milk mixed with a pinch of cinnamon and a teaspoon of vanilla, and it was the same recipe Gladys had used for Elvis when he was young. Elvis sat the two of you on one of the white couches in the living room, and cradled you close to him. You looked so beautiful, with your sleepy eyes and pouty lips. "My beautiful girl. My pretty yittle sleepy girl." Not understanding all the big words your daddy was using, you focused on looking at his eyes. You noticed the way his eyelashes had a natural curl, and the way they glimmered in the gentle sunlight of the morning. Finishing up, Mary handed Elvis your bottle. "Thank you, ma'am," he spoke quietly to her.

Placing the bottle between your lips, you started to drink. You hummed quietly as the warm drink filled you up, and the pain in your body began to melt away when Elvis started rubbing small circles on your tummy. Your daddy noticed you drifting off, so he began to sing. "Angel, with those angel eyes; come and take this earth boy, up to paradise…"

And there, in your daddy's arms on that fluffy white couch with the suns rays peering through the curtains, you fell asleep in your own little paradise.

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 46

After we had clawed our way out of the rubble and staggered to our car, Steve drove us to a contact he’d made during his runs—an Army vet named Sam Wilson. Now, I found myself in Sam's bathroom, scrubbing the grime and dust from my face. The reality of being hunted by a corrupt government, now tainted by our old enemies, was a far cry from the peaceful retirement I had once envisioned.

I stared at my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. Despite the grime on my face, I still looked like I had 70 years ago. It was as though time had paused for me, while inside, I felt like I should have been long gone.

As I wiped away the condensation, a fleeting movement caught my eye. I rubbed the mist from the mirror, only to lock eyes with the haunting blue gaze of the Winter Soldier. I gasped, spinning around in a rush, clutching the towel around me as if it could shield me from the apparition. But the room was empty, the silence thick and oppressive. My heart pounded in my chest, the paranoia gnawing at me. Maybe I was losing my grip on reality, or perhaps the crash had shaken my mind more than I realized.

I dashed out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel, desperate to talk to Steve. From the hushed tones drifting down the hallway, it was clear he was deep in conversation with Natasha. I pressed my back against the wall, straining to hear their exchange.

"I owe you," Natasha’s voice came through, heavy with a mixture of remorse and defeat. The sense of betrayal was palpable, a feeling that resonated with all of us. "It’s okay," Steve replied, his tone soft, accompanied by a shake of his head.

There was a pause, and then Natasha's voice, barely more than a whisper, cut through the silence. "If the roles were reversed, and it was up to me to save your life, would you honestly trust me to do it?" Her question hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.

I was surprised to hear Steve’s response, given how cautious he had been with her. His voice carried a weight of sincerity as he told her that she had earned his trust. The reassurance in his words was unexpected, and it revealed a depth of understanding and forgiveness that we all desperately needed in these tumultuous times.

I was relieved to hear that Steve and Natasha had buried their mistrust; I liked Natasha and hoped that their getting along would make things easier. As I stayed pressed against the wall, straining to catch their conversation, Sam suddenly rounded the corner.

"Are you eavesdropping?" he whispered, startling me so much that I jumped. “Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me, Wilson!” I exclaimed in a hushed voice, shoving him away to avoid being overheard.

Sam’s eyes briefly darted to my chest, and that’s when I realized I was still wrapped in nothing but a towel. He quickly averted his gaze, his face turning a shade of red as he grinned. “Breakfast is ready, guys,” he called out, then bolted back into the kitchen, his laughter trailing behind him.

We gathered in the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the savory scent of breakfast. Sam moved deftly, plating our food with the precision of a seasoned chef. I took a bite of the cream cheese bagel, its rich, creamy flavor melding perfectly with the warm, chewy bread. It was heavenly, and my stomach, empty from a long night, welcomed it eagerly. Our conversation centered on Jasper Sitwell, the man we had to take down. As a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. officer, he was untouchable, and we, marked as criminals, faced a daunting challenge.

Sam, ever the unexpected ally, offered his assistance, revealing layers to his character beyond that of a typical soldier. "I can't ask you to do this, Sam," Steve said, his eyes scanning the detailed dossier Sam had provided. "You got out for a reason." Sam crossed his arms, a look of unwavering resolve settling on his face. "Dude, Captain America needs my help. There is no better reason to get back in."

Natasha’s skills were unmatched; she easily slipped into Fort Meade, retrieving Sam's old Falcon wings like child’s play. With the gear secured, we set out to capture Jasper Sitwell. The plan brought us to a quaint little café, its outdoor seating providing a perfect vantage point to watch the entrance of the hotel where Sitwell was staying. The sun cast a warm glow over the scene, but tension crackled in the air.

Sam and I sat at a wrought-iron table, our eyes trained on the hotel. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one heightening our anticipation. "So... does your friend Natasha have a boyfriend?" Sam asked, breaking the silence, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings for any sign of movement. His attempt at casual conversation did little to mask the sharp focus in his gaze as we waited for our target to emerge.

Before I could answer, Sitwell stepped out of the hotel, and Sam quickly reached for the phone. "Agent Sitwell, how was lunch?" he asked sarcastically. "I hear the crab cakes are delicious." Although I couldn't hear Sitwell's response, the look of panic that crossed his face was telling enough.

"You’re going to go around the corner to your right. There’s a gray car two spaces down. You and I are going to take a ride," Sam commanded firmly.

Sitwell must have been protesting, but the sight of a red dot appearing on his expensive-looking tie made him fall in line immediately. He glanced around frantically but followed Sam's directions.

Sam handed me the phone. "If anything comes up, give us a call," he said, his tone serious. With that, he followed Sitwell, leaving me to keep watch and be ready for any unexpected developments. I scanned the bustling café through my sunglasses, everything appearing normal. Patrons were animatedly chatting, sipping their coffees, and enjoying the afternoon. Suddenly, a flock of birds took off from the ground behind me, causing me to turn my head instinctively.

When I turned back, my heart nearly stopped—the Winter Soldier was sitting across from me. He wore a cap and sunglasses, attempting a casual disguise. "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you," he said firmly, placing a handgun on the table and swiftly concealing it under the menu.

My heart raced as I nodded, trying to keep my composure. "I know who you are," I whispered. "You work for Hydra, but I still don't know what you want from me."

A flicker of emotion crossed his face, his eyes suddenly appearing sad and confused. "I remember you... you're the only thing I remember," he said softly, his hand reaching across the table, fingers just brushing mine.

I recoiled, pulling my hand back sharply. "You are a monster, a murderer," I spat, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. He straightened, his posture rigid and tense, as his hand tightened around the gun. The metallic glint of the weapon caught the light, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Come with me... please," he implored, his voice softening into a desperate plea.

I instinctively recoiled, my eyes wide with disbelief. "Why would I do that?"

He leaned in closer, his expression tormented, eyebrows deeply furrowed as if grappling with inner turmoil. "Because I know I loved you," he said, his voice wavering with a blend of longing and regret. As he reached for my hand, his fingers brushed against mine with a hesitant tenderness, and then entwined with mine in a firm yet gentle grip.

This time, I didn’t pull away. The shock of his admission left me frozen, my mind struggling to reconcile his words with the reality of the man before me. The touch of his hand, so intimate and unexpected, stirred a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief within me.

The shrill ring of the phone on the table made me jump, my hand instinctively pulling back as if burned. Trembling, I answered the call, my fingers unsteady on the receiver. Sam’s voice came through, steady and reassuring despite the chaos. "We’ll pick you up in five minutes," he said, his tone clipped but calm.

I hung up and looked around, the tension still gripping me. To my astonishment, the Winter Soldier had vanished.

Next Chapter

[aliveinacoffin]

Short little idea burb

Aizawa x Reader

Angst :)

Mentions of dying and suicidal nature, spoilers for the anime because I'm too poor and dumb to read the manga.

\----------------------------------------------------/

Looking at the analog clock, you saw the time. 1 A.M. Sighing, you went back to running your hand through Shouta's hair. He groaned lightly, sniffling.

"Sorry, go back to sleep, Hon." You whispered, the backdrop of the moon shadowing his face made him seem so dark. You sighed again, exhaustion stinging your eyes and weighting down on your body. You had been doing that for a while, whispering sweet nothings as he slept.

"...trying.." He mumbled, his arm resting heavily on you. His eyes flickering under his eyelids.

You hissed. "Did I wake you? I'm so sorry." You kissed his nose before softly kissing his lips. "What do you need? Meds? More blanket?" Your assault of questions made him roll over in annoyance, sharply hissing afterward.

"I'm not a baby, I'm not dying. I'm f-" He started.

"Don't. You could have died. I almost lost you. Let me be here for you now, since I couldn't before." You angrily whispered.

Shouta finally opened his eyes, watching you silently get up. "I'm sorry." He whispered, voice so quiet you barely heard him.

"Don't be." You got up, swinging your legs over the side as you cradled your head in your hands. He was apologizing for everything and nothing at all.

He had told you before you officially started dating that he could die at any time. You agreed to that, accepting that. Now, after living that reality again and again, you realized how little heroes cared for themselves. Including him. Especially him.

It seemed near suicidal. His students mattered above all else to him, which you admired. But it almost seemed like he threw himself into danger. Maybe that's why he recognized that behavior in that Deku student. He had lived and breathed that mentality, and even now, he does.

"Why are you awake? Do you need something? Need help to the bathroom?" Your voice hoarse from 24/7 care for him, and none for you.

It was quiet. The only sound was the wind outside and the faint tick, tick, tick, tick of the clock.

"I'm hungry." Shouta said, his voice hoarse from lack of water rather than neglect.

"I'll be back. I'll get you some steaks or something." You got up, sliding your feet. You were wearing the All Might slippers he had gotten you for your birthday last year.

"Chicken strips?"

"Ok."

Shouta would never admit it, but chicken stripes were his guilty pleasure. So you dutifully made your way through the hall. The ICU was filled with quiet, moaning, crying, and distant screaming.

The bright lights of the steril hospital were blinding, and the walls were freezing. You quietly moved your way through and silently bowed to the chef. Carrying back the warm tray was shocking on your cold fingers.

Coming back into the silent room, you rolled over the hospital tray to Shouta and got him situated.

"Thank you." He mumbled quietly before beginning to eat. You just hung your head back, not being able to bear seeing that empty spot where his right leg used to fill.

"Of course." Silence overlapped the room once more. You two hadn't really talked since the both of you got here. You had ran away from your evac spot to the hospital, a two mile trek.

You heard him stop eating, the soft sounds of him chewing, and the scraping of food had ceased.

"Are you....upset?" Shouta asked, his voice shaking just the smallest amount. If anyone else looked at him, they'd think he was apathetic or even annoyed. But you knew. He was hurt and confused, and maybe a little delirious from all the meds.

"No. Not with this. Not with you." You sighed heavily, you were hungry, cold, thirsty, and all of the above. But you weren't upset with Shouta Aizawa. Not now, not here.

"So what's wrong then? You're being cold, and different." The sound coming from his mouth was that same quiet tone you both had been using, but the question itself woke you up.

"You keep brushing off the fact that you could've died, and you practically snapped at me Hizashi earlier when we tried to talk about Kayama. She was our friend too." You leaned forward, the same pose Hizashi had taken earlier that week.

Shouta stared at you, as if you'd grown a second and third head. "You can't tell me how to process my own feelings." He scoffed.

"But you're not. At all. That's my point, I get you don't care about yourself, but I do. And I've been trying to take care of you, we all have, and you've been denying help. I had to force you to eat at the start of the week." You looked down, feeling the tears well in your eyes as your voice cracked.

He said nothing. All Mights fuzzy face smiling up at you, as if he were there, encouraging you now.

"I...I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!" You whispered angrily. "You keep going back and forth. Either be a dick or don't! Or do you not even know what your apologizing for?" Your arms crossed over your stomach protectively. Shining eyes looking at him, through the looking glass and straight to his face.

He was tired, but Shouta Aizawa was always tired. But this was a different kind of tired, a bone deep kind of exhaustion. You knew he had been running on less than five hours of sleep, energy drinks and cheap food.

"No." Shouta hunched over, his greasy unkempt hair falling over his gaunt face. He hadn't shaved in weeks, giving him that rugged look. This time though, it wasn't hot. Just sad.

You sighed, feeling guilt for snapping at him. "Please just, stay alive? If not for me for Hizashi, or your students?"

"No I- Y/N, I didn't....I didn't mean to-" Shoutas head snapped up, looking desperately at you.

"I know. I know, I know I just..Jesus I almost had to watch you die on fucking national TV." You crawled towards him, cuddling up near him carefully.

"I'm sorry I-" He started, trying his best to curl back into you.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for."

Both your eyes grow heavy, and you fell asleep to the slow and low sound of his breathing.

[derangedanomaly]

Okay uhm hi just wanted to say that your art is STUNNING and your writing is just- *chefs kiss*

so onto the request (tw: s/h mention)

If it’s comfortable could we get a one shot where reader has relapsed and dust walks in on them, and like reader didn’t have anything besides a old tshirt to clean their wounds with so dust helps them out and comforts them??

I'm glad you like what I do! MWAH! Take care, and enjoy, dear reader! It's not really long, because I don't know if I can write self harm good, and was kinda nervous about this, but I hope you'll still like it.

MASTERLIST

WARNING: self harm, comfort/hurt, teeth rotting fluff, NOT PROOFREAD

DUST X RELAPSED READER

Dust felt uncomfortable when he walked in your shared room, and felt an ominous aura in the air..

"Sweetie?" He called... but received no response. He immediately went looking for his dear lover.

Dust was panicking when you were nowhere in the room...he looked everywhere! Until.... "I-I'm here..." He heard a soft voice coming from the bathroom. Dust walked up to the door, about to open it, but hesitated upon doing so.. "Can I...come in?" He heard a few sniffles, and then a soft murmur of 'yes'. Dust was nervous when he opened the door..

Why was his sweet crying? Why were they in the bathroom? Did they...no. They wouldn't. They were holding up so well..

Dust walked into the bathroom, looking as his lover sat on the floor, clutching their hands close to them, and crying. He then noticed the knife on the counter, bloodied... Dust's eyes widened, and immediately sat next to them, hugging then close.

"I-I....I couldn't do it, Dust......" He then heard more sniffles as they buried their head on his shoulder. Dust frowned, but not from disappointment, but from sadness.. he settled on running his boney hand on their back, rubbing it in soothing motion. "Shh... it's ok.... Don't cry... we'll fix this."

You looked up at him in confusion, as you wiped your nose.. "W-We?" Dust smiled at you, then proceeded to kiss you. "Yes. I'll be with you every step of your journey.. and believe me, I know you can do it.." you couldn't help it anymore, but sobbed uncontrollably, as you hugged him more tightly. "You're the strongest person I know... don't give up so soon.." you started softly smiling hearing his kind words. "B-But you're the strongest person I know..." Dust chuckled slightly, looking down at you with love in his eyes.

You couldn't help but wonder, how can he not hate me? Or be disgusted by me..? He saw how weak I was...how vulnerable...and yet he still stares at me with such...love in his eyes...

Your grimm thoughts were interrupted by Dust, as he held your cheeks in his hand. "I love you." These words made you gasp, as you started giggling. "I...I love you too..." Dust smiled, and then picked you up, carrying you out of the room.

"Where are we going?" You looked at him with interest in your eyes. "We're going to fix you up, now... let's start working on your problems." You smiled at him, and laid your head on his chest. Now going to the kitchen...with a newfound determination.

[breadbrobin]

gladers as people you meet while working in hospitality/a restaurant

from me, someone who currently works in hospitality/a restaurant

thomas: the newbie who t e c h n i c a l l y finished his training, but still has no idea what’s going on. asks dumb questions. finishes homework on his break. never calls in sick unless he’s literally dying. will power through. steals fries on the way from the kitchen. often forgets to go on his break and gets told off by newt. breaks too many rules (just because he forgets about them or wasn’t taught them). barely knows the menu. has never eaten there. functionally broke. cries a lot over small things. breaks at least one glass almost every shift. isn’t allowed to work with gally (they fight). always running a few minutes late. loves setting up for breakfast. tries his best. doesn’t know where anything is but that doesn’t stop him from trying to find things. once led a customer around the entire restaurant trying to find the bathroom (eventually, he just asked teresa (it was literally right behind him)).

minho: been there for ages but doesn’t act like it. knows all the regulars by name. bartender!! so good at bartending fr! trains all the newbies and isn’t very good at it (case and point: thomas). has tried everything on the menu and gives the best recommendations. always drinking some random concoction of (non-alcoholic) drinks behind the bar. does not give a fuck. will blank stare at rude customers until they get uncomfortable. turns away big groups walk-ins for fun (gets in trouble). hates big bookings and has cried when he found out there was a booking of 18. always running late, but always leaves late too. likes to get things done fast, but not always well. hates setting up for breakfast. hates polishing glasses and cutlery. flirts with everyone (staff and customers). was a delivery driver for two weeks then crashed his car, so now he buses to work or gets a ride with someone else’s

frypan: the only nice chef you will ever meet. asks what you want for your staff meal and makes them all specially. great with allergens. will (and has) yell at a customer for yelling at a waiter. incredible cook. gets compliments all the time. head chef. hates his sous chef for no reason that he has ever explained. great listener. makes random shit when it’s quiet and gets the staff to try it. didn’t go to culinary school, is just that good. really funny. often comes out and chats with staff and customers. once cried when a little kid told him she liked his food and his “pretty white shirt” and told him she wanted to be a chef like him one day.

teresa: new like thomas but she’s worked in hospo before. quiet, keeps her head down. gets things done. scarily good at balancing plates, trays and even glasses. can carry the most (empty) wine glasses in one hand. basically everyone’s go-to if someone’s upset because she can calm them down easily. no one knows where she goes on her break, but she always comes back in time so no one asks. does homework and assignments on her break. one time, on the few occasions where she stays at work for her break, gally came in to see her crying over english. he backed out very slowly. everyone’s kinda scared of her—she’s too nice! she has to snap at some point. has a second job (more like a paid internship). eats in the restaurant almost more than she works (discount baby!!). ADORES polishing glasses and cutlery.

gally: the one who not so secretly hates it. he often goes in the back and talks shit about customers (or fellow staff) with fry and anyone else who’s there. will roll his eyes at customers. has very little patience when people are taking a long time (“if you’re not ready to order, don’t say you’re ready to shucking order!”). has been given multiple disciplinary warnings, but he somehow has the best sales on the team?? no one knows how. also newt and alby like him too much to fire him, so he’s safe for now. hates everyone. the second he leaves work, no one will hear from him under any circumstances until his next shift. works like, two nights a week. isn’t allowed to work with thomas (they fight).

brenda: always calls in sick. is hardly every there. but also will cover any shift in a heartbeat. talks shit with gally a lot. likes hiding in the back. drinks minhos dubious concoctions. hates cleaning up. hates polishing. hates folding napkins. hates setting up for breakfast. has been there almost the longest, but doesn’t act like it. really good with kids. knows the menu back to front but won’t give recommendations. just suggests what’s popular. perpetually tired. laughed at teresa while she was crying over english, then helped her (she got an A). actually really nice if she likes you. heart of gold. fully supports minho turning away big bookings. fights for workers rights—she’s the reason they all have mandatory breaks (one time, she didn’t eat anything all day so she could pass out at work. ever since then, breaks have been mandatory. (she’s not proud of the method, but she was happy to take one for the team)). randomly shows up with a new hairstyle and random tattoos at least once a month. secretly loves her job.

newt: the nice team leader that everyone’s secretly kinda scared of. like, they love him, but no one wants to piss him off. has kicked people out for yelling at staff. has kicked people out for less than that honestly. helps people with homework. always lets people go home early. best at making coffee and doing latte art. somehow both chill and uptight at the same time. knows all the regulars by name and knows most of their regular orders. him and alby instated a no swearing rule (everyone found a way around it. he thinks it’s hilarious).

alby: the hardass supervisor who loves his team but doesn’t show it. great at rostering and is very strategic about it. when he’s working, he’s all hustle. can sweet talk any customer. has kicked someone out for yelling at staff. many times. he will ban them from the premises. threatened to call the police one time. not very artful about everything, but he’s quick and smart. has come up with a bunch of ways to make everyone’s life easier while working. him and newt instated a no swearing rule (everyone found a way around it. he hates it).